As you may have already heard, I have to haul my groceries around the city in a cart. A 2 wheeled, pull it behind you and try not to roll through the dog poo on the sidewalk granny cart, in fact. And it’s kind of embarrassing.
Part of that embarrassment stems from the fact that I refused to pay more than 30 euro for a stupid grocery cart, so I ended up with a crappy plastic neon yellow and orange version. And a year later, it pretty much looks like a family of rabid street dogs has been living out of it for the past 6 months.
One wheel is about to wobble off and there’s a class 4 blowout in the back left corner from a too heavy load of sparkling water and pasta sauce. There are shriveled up green beans inside and blueberry stains throughout. My 7 year old niece wouldn’t even take the thing out for a spin.
Despite this, I have been hesitant to spend more money on a new one. But the sorry state of my cart really worried Husband. He claimed I needed something more sturdy and fashionable. Maybe bigger, too, so I could bring home more stuff. Heck, I could even use 2 carts at the same time! You know, to make it easier to do all the grocery shopping by myself.
Of course I truly appreciated his concerns. So I promptly starting replying to his offers of bigger, better carts with WHY DON’T YOU GET YOUR OWN BLEEPITY BLEEP BLEEP CART TO PULL AROUND ALL AFTERNOON! AND FILL IT WITH PAIN AU RAISINS WHILE YOU’RE AT IT!
Which, in retrospect, was perhaps a bit inflammatory. He was just trying to help after all. And I did need a new stupid cart, however much I hated to admit it.
So here it is: The BMW of grocery carts. It’s got a sturdy metal frame, a very preppy non-neon canvas bag, real tires, and it cost a small fortune.
I actually kind of like it. The somber colors make it slightly less embarrassing, and it’s got a nice comfy grip pad on the handle bar. But I just can’t help thinking: This is what my life has come to, luxury granny carts.