As I walked to the market in our little French town I was teasingly happy thinking how I matched, black shoes, black tights, dark grey dress…. and my NEW little black and white checked shopping cart. "I am so stylin' for once." I humored myself.
I went to stall to stall filling up my little black and white checked shopping cart with half a pumpkin, potatoes, leeks, a cooked beet, some salmon, and fresh apple juice… I thought to myself, "See how easy it is with a cart on wheels! No more basket for me, this cart rolls with ease!" I continued stuffing my new little black and white checked shopping cart…apples, pears, cheese, a dozen eggs, jars of yogurt and at the end I bought a baguette that I put under my arm and carried the flowers with my free hand… 'cause rolling my NEW little black and white checked shopping cart is easy to do with one hand even when it was stuffed silly…
Until the wheel broke!
I didn't feel so stylish as I drug my cart, which made a sound worse than one's fingernails on a chalk board up the cobble streets to my house.
Eggs cracked, flowers wilted, and the girl in the black shoes, black tights, dark grey dress felt like the little piggy that did not weeeeeeeeeeeeeeee all the way home.
I rolled it down the
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