Some of you may remember when I waxed lyrical here about the simple pleasures of being able to take Alex supermarket shopping. On the face of it, I appreciate, it may seem odd getting so excited about taking him food shopping. Surely it’s nicer, easier, quicker… without him? And, you’d be sort of right. When I go without him I take the ‘single person’ trolley… I fly round the aisles and can weave with abandon through the people safe in the knowledge that my usual travelling companion is safe, elsewhere, not about to try and nick someone’s shopping from their trolley. Or pull stuff off the shelves.
But shopping is something we do together. In some ways it’s obviously not the shopping itself it’s… being together, sharing an activity, sharing some time… somewhere that is, crucially, warm, dry and accessible.
I think I’ve definitely said before it’s not so much Alex’s disability that limits where we go, but the accessibility of the location we’re considering.
Supermarkets are winners. And whilst it wouldn’t necessarily be my first choice… you compromise a lot when you have a child with additional needs and just getting Alex out of the house, somewhere different with lights, friendly people. It’s a winner.
As part of that post I know I explained how grateful we were for the Firefly/ Cerebra trolley that Sainsbury’s had bought as it just added years to the time we can take him out. Now, thanks to tireless campaigning Asda have them in stores and Tesco are trialling them too.
We all like choice. So I decided to branch out this weekend and thought I’d try Morrisons instead. They have nicer bread (I think…). Without wishing to sound like ‘Disgusted from Tunbridge Wells…’ imagine my surprise…
‘Hi, I haven’t shopped here before, could you show me where the additional needs trolleys are?’
Pause. ‘Hmm, well, I think we’ve only got the wheelchair ones. Would that work?’
‘Not really, he’s only 6 and his wheelchair is small. You’re sure you don’t have any?’
‘Well, no, but let’s have a look…’
‘You don’t have any? Not even the old school ones?’
‘No. I think head office are trialling some…? Would you like someone to go round with you to help?’
Here’s what I didn’t say: ‘That’s really kind, but I don’t want someone to come shopping with me because then I will feel inhibited in every aisle… feel silently judged at every purchase… I obviously wouldn’t be able to double back if I’d forgotten anything because I’d feel like I was totally wasting their time… and I really couldn’t browse. It would be miserable. Moreover, I find our independence chipped away at every day and an additional needs trolley just puts that off a little’.
I just said: ‘No, thank you’.
She was very kind, didn’t make me feel awkward and took my details saying someone would be in touch.
And I slung a bag off the wheelchair.
I checked the website later. It says: A trolley with padding and straps for disabled children up to the age of 7 years is also available.
There wasn’t any evidence of that at the store. And it wasn’t something the staff mentioned.
Morrisons, I think you’re the last of the Big Four? It’s time to do some catching up.
Mummy, what kind of bag is that ruining the look of my chair?? Flowers?? Leaves?? Where’s my usual trolley??
Originally published at asalexgrowsup.wordpress.com
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