Personal Space, Cell phone ettiquete, and other things....

So here I was minding my own business at the grocery store. Milk, cereal, eggs, peanut butter, and snickers ice cream bars in tow. Ivy was being quite the little angel, keeping herself entertained by taking off her shoes and throwing them out of the cart. Now, I know better than to go to the grocery store in the afternoon. My usual shopping time is 8am due to the lack of other peoples school-aged children, and grouchy/tired/rushed working mothers. I suppose I thought it might be different today.... I guess I learned my lesson. I was standing (very innocently, may I add) 4th in line when all of a sudden I felt something hit me in the back. I looked down and there was a very sad little girl crying over the spilled bottle of milk that was now running under my shoes. I still don't know if she threw it to try to get me out of the way or if she was trying to share with me. Then around the corner came (I assume) her very young mother and grandmother with ***3*** carts full of groceries, and a few other children. Mom was stressed out trying to keep kids quiet, and Grandma was no help at all due to a very important (also somewhat private) cell phone conversation. I never really wanted to know about her husband's visit to the doctor this morning. So Mom picked up the little girl and took her to get more milk. Seconds later one of the little boys decided to take the cart for a drive and ran first into the candy bar rack, then into me. Grandma was still on the phone, but decided to be helpful and stand in-between me and the cart. The only problem with this is that I could hear way too much of her conversation, I could actually feel her breathing on me, and hear the person on the other line. Why is it that she had to invade my bubble? I love my personal space. I had people in front of me in line, and I didn't feel the need to stand close enough to smell their perfume. I took a step forward, and she did too! Finally I took Ivy out of the cart and put the cart in-between myself and my new friend. So the moral of the story is: Don't torture your children by taking them on "3-cart" grocery trips, take away Grandma's cell phone, and always wear protective gear to Wal-Mart.