I took the boys for a quick trip to the grocery store this afternoon. We needed milk and a few other things, and it was a good excuse to get out of the house after being confined by record sub-zero temperatures all week. (The local schools were actually closed Wednesday for snow and Thursday and Friday because of the danger of having kids out walking to school and because the diesel bus fuel turns to gel at these temperatures. Luckily our daycare follows the university's weather closing routine so it was open.)

The store didn't have two-seat carts and Edward didn't want to walk. He actually suggested he could ride in a separate cart from Daniel. I'm not sure how he thought I'd push two at once. To avoid a meltdown I let him ride for the first time ever in one of those carts that has a fire truck on the front. I have always avoided those because they're so unwieldy. I am still scarred from an experience five years ago when I misjudged the awkward steering and ended up smashing my niece's fingers against a freezer case. (Oh, Colleen, how your tears broke my heart!) But today, Edward was in heaven, calling out "Honk honk! Everybody out of the way!" all through the store. And to top it all off, on the way home we arrived at a train crossing just as the lights were flashing and the gates lowering and for the first time in my life I was actually excited to sit and wait for the coming freight train. Edward counted five engines, two oil cars (which actually were labeled corn syrup) and lost count of the box cars. Who knew such thrills awaited in a simple grocery run?