When I was younger, I begged my mom to take the fancy carts with a plastic car attached to the front. Despite my constant begging, she never gave in, saying that the cart was too big and too difficult to maneuver. We only used the regular, mundane, kid-not-approved carts. And this kid gets to ride his motorized, plastic motorcycle into the supermarket. Best Mom of the Year Award.
Oh, and to my mom: Now that I'm not seven anymore, I realize that you were right about the cart thing. I no longer feel deprived of my childhood.