Why I shouldn't let my child stand in the grocery cart

Alert: 

The following story could seriously compromise my Mother-of-the-Year application.  Come to think of it, there are so many things that would compromise my application, I shouldn't apply anyway.

First, some pertinent background:

There are many ways that Buddy Bear differs from his siblings.  One way that he defies my previous parenting experience is with his impressive, and sometimes death-defying, gross-motor confidence.  In contrast to his relatively physically cautious siblings, Buddy Bear rarely hesitates when it comes to new physical challenges.  He is delighted to climb the highest seats, stairs or tables, loves to wrestle with his brother, and is undaunted by super speeds.  Hey, a Buddy needs to keep up with his beloved siblings, doesn't he?

So, I was in no way surprised yesterday when, while at the grocery store with me, Buddy Bear did not want to sit securely in the grocery cart.  Our compromise, since we were in the produce department with too many temptations for little wandering hands, was to let him stand in the front large section of the cart.  This seemed reasonable, given that the front side of the cart measured up to his chest, I was was holding onto the back of the cart, and we were standing stationary in front of the lettuces.

However, I had not accounted for Buddy Bear's curiosity streak.  

All of a sudden, my attention was wrenched from the price of the lettuce bags to the sight of Buddy Bear slowly tipping himself, head first, without a sound, out and over the front of the cart.  As if in slow-motion, I watched as he seemed to suspend himself upside down in mid-air, before slowly falling to the floor onto his head.  I am not sure which one of us was more horrified by the unpleasant THUD of his head hitting the floor.  

Hugging poor, shrieking Buddy Bear in my arms, I could not have been more thankful for the cranial cushion provided by his very cute and relatively padded monkey-faced toboggan hat.  Thank you, Lord.  Thanks should also be extended to the crowd of customers, also present in the produce department, who witnessed the whole event.  Each went about his or her business without a sending single scowl, derogatory remark or killer-eye stare my way.  I already felt like I deserved a parental time-out, and I greatly appreciated the mercy of the quiet crowd.

Buddy Bear is doing great, I am thankful to say.  He probably won't enjoy as much freedom during our next grocery run, which is probably for the best.  Hopefully, I can help him find better ways to leave his mark on the world.