Trolley Of Doom

Click to visit the Siren Stories website and read more work by J.J. Barnes and check out her latest novels.

Click to visit the Siren Stories website and read more work by J.J. Barnes and check out her latest novels.

It is my belief that child seats in supermarket trolleys were invented either by optimists or sadists. Or perhaps by one of each. The optimist truly believing you could get a toddler to sit still in one for the duration of a shopping trip. The sadist enjoying watching you try.

Miss Rose loves to shop. As in truly adores it. She also loves to climb. Sitting her in a trolley seat is just an adventure playground for her.

As soon as we are in through the doors she hoists herself up to standing. This leads to me hunched over the trolley, in forward motion, arse protruding, whilst she has her arms around my neck and squeals in excitement whilst attempting to use my breasts as stepping stones. Sit down, stand up, sit down, stand up.

I give up when about two thirds up the first aisle, as I’m attempting to reach a loaf of bread, and Rose launches herself into space, bungee jump style and I catch her with a swoop which collides my face firmly with a bread basket.

Giving up on the pointless and ridiculous child seat I opt to place her in the main cart of the trolley. Oh joy of joys! A world of delights await a toddler in there. Throwing packets of couscous, rice and pasta from the trolley with shrieks of excitement is fine. I just groan, retrieve the item in question, toss it back in, and trudge on. But jars and tins? This point in the excursion sees me hung across the front of the trolley, clutching desperately at the trolley contents, retrieving items from the excited fists of Rose and begging her to stop.

I’m still in forward propulsion but now my uterus is being garrotted by the hand bar, my bottom is swaying manically in the breeze, and my legs are kicking furiously at the ground to keep us moving.

She can push the trolley!

She prefers to walk than anything so I remove her and place her by my feet. She loves to push the trolley, charging past the things I want, then when I manage to bring her to a halt she assists me.

“Thank you sweetheart but we don’t want any cans of mushrooms… No darling we really don’t want mushrooms… Baby girl neither of us like mushrooms…. Sweetheart no more cans of mushrooms… PUT DOWN THE MUSHROOMS!”

This palaver continues for a reasonable amount of time during which we take out several old ladies and the occasional child with our roller coaster trolley, until eventually she gets bored and legs it. Full pelt. I abandon the trolley and charge after her, then scoop her up as she giggles the evil cackle of a child who knows she’s being bad and loves every second.

I make efforts to carry her, but she’s heavy and she squirms. She squirms and wriggles, and shrieks and kicks. I put her down, I pick her up. Down, up. Down, up.

By now we are approximately half way round the supermarket. The second half is a repetition of the first half but in faster succession so we accomplish more circuits and apologise to more people.

We reach the checkout. Obviously she must be contained somewhere. The seat has been ruled out therefore she’s in the cart, and being the wonderful little person she is, she wants to help.

The sight of a one year old lifting a multipack of baked beans, straining as though she’s a Bulgarian weightlifting champion, is entertaining but the rest of her efforts at throwing the trolleys contents in the vague direction of the conveyor is somewhat stressful.

Packing is entertaining. As fast as I place something in a bag she pulls it out.

“Thank you darling but I do actually want that cheese” pack pack “oh thank you but I do still want the cheese” pack pack pack “oh honey don’t throw the cheese on the floor I want to take it home” pack pack “Rose, do not throw the cheese out anymore” pack “Rose. No” pack “Rose Elizabeth I want that cheese!

I hand over my card to the sympathetic/irritated (depending on whether they’re a parent I suspect) cashier.

“Rose! Mummy needs to pay leave the cheese in the bag!” This exchange today culminated in me shrieking “I WANT THE CHEESE” at my dastardly child in the middle on the car park whilst onlookers contemplated having me sectioned and Rose giggled then made for the second pack of cheese.

Still… I’ve got a whole week til I have to do it again… Yippee…

You can check out all my contact info an links on, I’m on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram so you can get in touch on there, as well as find links to all my work. There’s also which has all the work by both myself and Jonathan McKinney and loads of extra content such as background stories for different characters. If you want to subscribe on Patreon, its just $1 a month to help support our work and it also grants you access to our extra podcast a week, you can go to

Thanks as always for reading, and I’ll speak to you soon I hope!


3 responses to “Trolley Of Doom

  1. Haha! Oh the joys i have to look forward to!


  2. Last time I went grocery shopping with my 13 months old I told my husband I’m never doing it alone again! And she’s not even walking yet!



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