Wed Man Pushing

As an act of charity on Monday, Farmer H drove me to town to assist with my weekly adventure at The Devil's Playground. I'm pretty sure I mentioned how the last time he tagged along, he commandeered my cart!

Well! This time, Mrs. HM was having none of that nonsense! I strode ahead of Farmer H into the vestibule. I yanked a cart loose from the long stack, and started toward the scanner thingy at the proper entrance/exit. I'd noticed Farmer H with my peripheral vision, while I was prying that cart loose. He hovered near me. Like when a total moron who doesn't have kids asks to hold your newborn infant, and you hover over them, ready to reach out and grab the babe if it slips from the moron's grasp.

I'm not equating myself with a moron, but I am equating Farmer H with a nervous grabber. As I pushed MY cart/walker, Farmer H trotted alongside. Reaching an arm. Having no place to put it on the handle.

"Oh. So YOU'RE going to push the cart?"

"I thought I would, yeah."

"Oh. Okay..."

Poor sad Farmer H. He trailed along in my wake then, like he'd forgotten how to walk. Like he didn't know what to do with his arms! Our first stop was the bakery department, where I selected a little container of OREO BROWNIES as a treat for The Pony. That's why we were there, really, to buy Pony treats.

Farmer H kind of had me blocked in. I needed to turn my cart around, and head back from whence we had come. By the time I stepped out of the way of the cart wheels, and had it spun halfway, Farmer H grabbed it and started pushing!

"So...you're taking my cart?"

"I'll push for a while. Yes."

Huh. Farmer H didn't even know where we were going! HE didn't have the list. So I had to draft in his wake, being battered by stinkeyes from all the other shoppers he almost collided with by pushing down the middle of the aisle. Then try to make him hear which aisle to turn on. We also picked up some Chex Mix supplies, for a last-minute emergency batch to be made Monday evening and packed and ready to go by 7:30 a.m. Tuesday.

The only things we needed for home were Diet Mountain Dew and Strawberry Water for Farmer H, candy that he snagged for himself, an extra bag of Bugles that he wanted when he saw me get some for the Chex Mix, and a 3-pack of Puffs With Lotion (I've been sick!), a 2-pack of Select A Size Bounty Paper Towels (one of us is messy), a bottle of toilet bowl cleaner (for Farmer H to have in the boys' bathroom that he alone uses, so there's no excuse for him not to clean it), and some cough drops (the sickovirus lingers!).

We looped back over to the cookie aisle to get The Pony some Soft Batch Chocolate Chip Cookies (with brownie centers!). Only had the cough drops left, which were in the opposite corner of The Devil's Playground.

Let the record show that Farmer H is a week ahead of me in his sickovirus recovery. I am barely able to keep both crusty eyes open. I started to feel all hot. Faint. Weak. Meanwhile, Farmer H blazed ahead of me, not even looking back. I caught up to him at the end of the aisle, and told him how I felt.

"Oh. Do you want the cart back?"

"Yeah. I could lean on it."

"Well, I have to go to the bathroom anyway." He reluctantly gave up the cart.

"You can go while I start for the cough drops. Meet me in the pharmacy area. I go pretty slow."

He DID catch me in the pharmacy area. Cough drops procured, we looked for a good line. There's no such thing, really, in the Devil's Playground three days before Thanksgiving. I found one line with only two customers, and let Farmer H get in front of the cart to put stuff on the conveyor. Of course the line didn't move. The guy trying to pay couldn't get his card to work. I'm pretty sure this scenario sounds familiar.

However, neither Farmer H nor I mentioned trying to help him. He was digging out different cards and trying them. He looked well-to-do enough. After about five minutes, he got one to work. Farmer H pretty much stayed out of the way this time. He pulled our cart on through when it was our turn, and reminded the Handmaiden to scan the soda. While I was paying, Farmer H loaded our bags in the cart.

And turned to push it out of the store when I got the receipt.