An Unfortunate Accident.

I blame the stupid car carts at Kroger. If I have to do any grocery shopping that involves buying more than 10 items, I have to use one of those god-awful buses known in our house as the "car cart". You know what they are--you probably dodge moms and dads pushing them at the store, cursing silently to yourself as they nearly take out your calf muscle and their kids continuously honk the squeaky horn. I HATE those things, but they do serve their purpose--to keep kids occupied so you can get your shopping done.

Earlier this summer, we were shopping with the stupid car cart. It was right after the van purchase, so I was getting used to the thing--the buttons on the key, specifically. After a particularly trying shopping trip, I was at the van, trying to maneuver the car cart behind the beast of a vehicle. An older man in a pick-up truck wanted to park in the spot next to me, so I had to try to wiggle the car cart out of his spot and far enough back from the van to open the automatic hatch. It took me more than a minute and I felt so bad, but he waited patiently. Of course, as you can imagine, my frustration was mounting. It was hot, I had frozen items melting, and I just wanted to get home. I managed to get the cart situated and the hatch open, and started putting the groceries in the car. I was hoping that the man wasn't planning on getting out of his truck and cussing me out. I know I would've wanted to.

Of course, the complete opposite happened. He was so nice. He said if he'd known I had little ones in the cart, he would've parked somewhere else. He said that he had over 30 grandchildren himself--BIG family--and that he just loved kids. He was such a nice man, it was a like a feeling of relief washed over me. I like it when people surprise me. I chatted with him for a minute, and he leaned down to talk to the kids in the car, which was sweet.

Unfortunately, that's when things went south.

I was trying to open the sliding doors on the van, so that I could let it air out a bit--I wanted it to not be a gajillion degrees when the kids got in. Except...I was talking to the man at the same time as I was trying to push the buttons, and I pushed the wrong one. I heard the tell-tale beep of the hatch closing.  The man, who really was quite old, was still bent over talking to the kids--in the direct path of the closing hatch. I tried to hit the button again to reverse the action, but at the time I didn't realize you had to hold it down for more than a second to do this. I attempted to warn him, but he wasn't the kind of guy who was moving anywhere too quickly--and the door crashed into his head. I learned that the car has a sensor for such occasions--the door automatically opened back up. I, of course, was horrified. I apologized profusely, he said he was fine. I asked him if he was sure, he said absolutely, and he went on his merry way.  I got the kids out of the nightmare car cart and started buckling them in, hoping that they hadn't seen the incident from their vantage point.  Anderson was unusually quiet.  He had a very thoughtful look on his face. As I strapped him in, he said, "Mom? Did you close the Papaw's head in the door?"  Yes...he saw me and he called me out like that. I had to laugh--the whole thing is actually pretty comical, now that it has passed.  I told him yes, I sure did, but that it was an accident and that the Papaw was okay. We went home, and went  about our day.

Except Anderson has a better memory than anyone I know. He reminds me daily--still--about closing the Papaw's head in the door.  Anytime we are in the back of the van, he acts as though he is going to let it close on his head--wanting to relive the little incident.  Today, I made his dreams come true. He was standing a bit close to it, and the hatch grazed his head as it opened. Of course he was thrilled and said, "Did you open my head in the door?"  Yes, Anderson....yes, I did.

Silly kid.