I had this really insanely manic urge tonight to put one foot up on my shopping trolley and to go push-push-pushing down the aisle at top speed.
Until I noticed a fatal flaw - the bastards have removed the cross bar that used to join the back wheels - and that was the perfect spot to put one foot, get the trolley moving, and then put the other foot up and then see how far the trolley would go before crashing into a wall of olive oil bottles.
No wonder the kids of today are bored, sitting at home going all square eyed in front of the X-box. When I was a wee newt, I used to love hooning around the supermarket on the trolley. I don't know why my mum put up with me doing it, but I was a careful hoon. I made sure I didn't knock down more than one granny or promotional stand per week.
I have two theories as to why this has happened, and both involve the terms "lawyers" and "safety nazis".
I wonder if I can fashion a bit of wood that I can take to the supermarket and fit across this gap so that I can once more sail down the aisles, free as a bird.