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I can remember it like yesterday, hoppin on the back of that shopping cart, the Detroit Iron, muscle car of any 7 year old. With one foot on the the cart, the other pushing off from the ground with all the force I could muster, I flew down the aisles. My mom always pretending to care, so that the stares of the elderly shut ins that were buying their TV dinners would be averted. At least the mom cares. But in reality, she'd set me loose roaming around the store, zipping up and down aisles packed with every variety of food imaginable.

Once I remember distinctly of getting a special mission from my mom (these were my favorite shopping cart adventures). It was a win-win situation, as my mom would have me go grab an item we needed for the house, and plus I would be kept occupied, instead of hopping up and down trying to put all sorts of foodstuffs onto the weighing scale that hung far above my head. I zoomed down towards the location of my product. I think it might have been soup; I'm not sure, all I know is that is was in a can. I remember approaching it with speed, coming in fast, I saw it on my right, and decided it would be a hit-and-run. Not even bothering to stop the cart, I attempted to simply dart my hand out, grab the can, and drop it in the cart, all in one fluid motion. Well you can imagine, things just didn't work out that way. I shot my hand out, fumbled on the whole grabbing part, and proceeded to knock about 5 feet's worth of canned foods off of the shelf, finally skidding to a halt. I told my mom I was sorry I took so long; that I knew I had jeopardized the operation, but at least the package was safe. She looked suspiciously at me, wondering if there was a real reason I had taken so long, but eventually decided that it was good enough for her, and dropped it.

Another shopping cart mishap sticks out clearly in my mind. I had been swerving up and down aisles, my mom busy with the shopping aspect of it all, when I saw her up ahead. I decided I was going to test out the brakes and give my mom a good scare at the same time. I built up speed, and as I was getting close to her rear end bending over to pick out items on the lowest shelf, I began to desperately apply the brakes. In this moment, I noticed 2 things. First: that there was no way I was going to be able to stop in time. And Second: that was not my mom. Thud. I had managed to slow the cart considerably, but still softly ran into the woman. Who looked up at my innocent little face. I couldn't think of anything to do but sit and look sincerely horrified at this terrible mistake; so I went with my instincts. She gave a little hmphh! and walked away. It seems I had come off lucky again.

Although today I'm much to big for shopping carts (trying to stand on the back would simply flip the cart over), every time I enter a grocery store, it brings back memories to the good old days, speeding off like a bullet all over the store.

Learn more about this author, Max Youngquist.
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