Push Or Shove, It's All The Same In The End

Living in the mountains like we do, not every parking lot in town is privileged to be flat. Some have more of a slope than others, and then there's the grocery store with the sledding hill. My cousin worked across the road from this grocery once and said they watched a lady's full cart of groceries pick up speed as it rolled away from her. Awesome. Except if you're that lady.

Tonight we were at that store, and Micah was being Mr. Independent I Can Do It (which happens a lot, actually). He helped the bagger (giving a pack of gum it's very own bag) and loading filled bags into the cart. When we were heading out the door, he thought he would be The Cart Pusher. While we may allow him this privilege in a flat parking lot, pushing in The Sledding Lot wasn't happening. Daddy allowed Micah to push while he took the helm and guided. (And by guided I mean that he braced the cart from taking off down that hill and dragging Micah along behind it.)

Bringing up the rear of that wagon train, I watched as Micah carefully guided the cart through the doors, turned right into the parking lot, walked a few feet, then give the cart a firm shove before letting go. (Thank goodness Daddy was at the helm.) Being that the cart was already straining to take off, Daddy didn't feel the shove from the seven year old. He did, however, feel the push when Micah grabbed the cart's handle bar and pushed it with all his might as he walked behind it. If that cart wasn't going to roll down the hill on it's own accord, he was going to help it.

Boys.

I'm now wondering about that lady's cart that ran away while my cousin watched. Were there little boys snickering in a car somewhere, thinking they got away with some mischief?