Recently, my local Tesco has started using those trollies that you have to put in a pound coin to use. And for those of you wondering, yes, that is how all the best stories start.
Normally, my mum contributes the pound and I somehow end up with it. Sitting in a car park yesterday, as you do, she mentioned this, to which I responded:
"It's my payment for taking the trolley back, pushing it out to the car, and being a fucking delight all the way round the store."
She laughed. A lot. Is it any wonder I am the way that I am with a mother like her?