Dad and Max were still in the grocery store.
That alone was concerning.
They had been separated for at least fifteen minutes, which in Johnson’s time was enough for three disasters and one public apology. Both of them were lost—but in completely different ways.
Dad stood proudly in the vegetable aisle, gripping his shopping cart like a trophy. Inside the cart sat an alarming number of onions.
Forty pounds of onions.
They were stacked so high they looked like they might overthrow the cart at any moment.
Dad wiped his brow and nodded. “Efficient shopping.”
People stared as they passed.
One man slowed his cart and squinted. “Uh… sir? Are you opening a grocery store?”
Dad glanced at the onions, then back at the man. “No.”
He paused.
“…But now that you mention it, that’s not a bad idea.”
The man backed away.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the store, Max had made a bold decision.
He had decided to go to the second floor.
The problem was that the elevator was broken.
A large sign read: OUT OF ORDER.
Max sighed. “Figures.”
So he headed for the stairs.
They were packed.
Not with normal shoppers.
With grandpas.
So many grandpas.
They moved as a group. Slowly. Determined. Relentless.
Max tried to squeeze past. “Excuse me—sorry—coming through—”
A cane tapped his ankle.
Someone elbowed him gently but firmly.
“Watch it, kid,” a voice said.
Max lost his balance.
He stumbled backward.
Flailing.
And fell.
Straight down the steps.
He tumbled like a dropped sock until he crashed at the bottom into a massive display of pillows.
POOF.
Pillows exploded everywhere.
Max lay there, buried in cushions, staring at the ceiling.
A small kid nearby clapped enthusiastically. “Do it again!”
Max groaned. “I hate public spaces.”
Back in the vegetable aisle, Dad was attempting something far more dangerous than onion shopping.
He was maneuvering the cart.
The onion-heavy cart.
Through a narrow aisle.
“Easy… easy…” he muttered, carefully turning the wheels.
Then his phone rang.
Dad looked down. “Hello?”
He let go of the cart.
That was his mistake.
The cart rolled forward.
Slowly at first.
Then faster.
Then dangerously fast.
Dad watched in horror as it veered straight into a shelf full of toys.
CRASH!
Stuffed animals, action figures, and plastic dinosaurs rained down like chaos confetti.
A toy cow mooed loudly.
Dad stared at the wreckage.
“…That wasn’t me,” he said quietly.
Across the store, Max sat up from the pillow pile just in time to hear the crash echo.
He sighed deeply. “Yep. That sounds like Dad.”
🌀 What Just Happened?
- Dad got separated and somehow filled the cart with forty pounds of onions.
- Max tried to reach the second floor but got blocked by a slow-moving army of grandpas.
- Max fell down the stairs and caused a massive pillow explosion.
- Dad lost control of his overloaded cart while answering a call.
- The cart crashed into a toy shelf, creating a full aisle disaster.
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