Whoever designed the shopping cart car is an ASSHOLE.

Kids today. Riding in the seat of a shopping cart just isn’t good enough for them. It was plenty fun for us when we were kids. Seemed like a whizbang joyride special occasion. But no, today’s kids need everything catered to them.

Sweetie, please don’t lick the cereal boxes. Snookums, stop dragging your hair along the floor. Pumpkin, that is not an appropriate place to wipe your nose.

If these plasticized germ-vector monstrosities didn’t exist, parents would never be subjected to all-out toddler Tasmanian Devil hissy fits in the supermarket entrance as the last blue car gets snapped up by some other bedraggled family. “But sweetie, there’s still a red one!” The parent offers desperately. “NOOOOOOO!!! BLUE CAR!!! BLUE CAR!!!”

Or, alternately, subjected to being the meanest, most joyless parent on earth for refusing to indulge in the shopping cart car at all.

And then there’s the “handling.” It’s like navigating hairpin turns in a double decker stretch Hummer towing a horse trailer. All while trying to ignore the incessant squeaking emanating from the ‘steering wheel’ honker. All while the small human being is unbuckling and diving headfirst into the stack of canned vienna sausages on clearance.

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