Curse of the Double Wide Stroller

In my years of nannying/babysitting, I am always haunted by this thing they call the double-wide stroller. When I first started babysitting, I was fourteen and my first job was for a family of 7. Naturally, a double wide stroller would be an absolute mindless purchase when you already have seven kids, whats the point of picking 2 to put in a stroller? I dont know, maybe it makes sense to you, but it doesnt to me.

Anyway, many of the families I now sit for, have a 2 kids and a double wide stroller. This thing is the biggest pain in the ass. First of all, a stroller already can be awkward to the unsuspecting sitter but a DOUBLE-WIDE (DW) stroller, 2 strollers strung together by iron and latches is an entirely difficult thing to navigate. The thing takes up the ENTIRE sidewalk and doesnt turn or manuever when you want it to. The double body weight doesnt help either. Most of the time, the DW functions to give the older kid a break when you go on long walks but I say, make the kid walk. Child obesity is rapidly rising in the states and the fact is, that if we all got rid of our DW's, I swear that statistic would drop like its hot. Kids have their whole life to figure out laziness, let's not give them time to like it.
Then, after you return from your walk all sweaty from pushing and navigating sidewalks built for half a person, you have to fold this DW. How does that latch fit there and the wheels go up there and what the hell does this lever do and oh my gosh, I just snapped the most important part. Add to this equation a baby you are trying to hold in your arms and a toddler running up and down the sidewalk. As you try for the fiftieth time to get the legs to snap into place, the baby starts slipping and you end up holding him sideways like a sack of groceries and the toddler starts getting risky and flirts with running into the street. As you yell at the toddler and the baby starts crying because all the blood is slowly draining to his head, you still cannot get the wheels to fold up. You then try and jam the darn thing into the foyer without folding it but no, the wheels are too wide for the door frame. You silently curse and jam again hoping that somehow, some way, the thing will automatically fold itself up and make your life easier.

No, it doesnt. You end up dragging the kids upstairs, leaving the stroller half folded and possibly broken at the bottom of the stairs, hoping no one will steal it. Once the kids are napping, you sneak back out to the front and give it one last try. You push at the wheels, you kick at the latches, nothing. Nothing moves or bends and thankfully, nothing snaps. You sigh and leave the stroller outside with a note that says, "DO NOT STEAL." You hope that your strongly worded Black sharpie sign will be enough to dissuade possible stroller thieves. You feel good that you used a Sharpie. Sharpies mean business.

Later that afternoon the mom comes home and quickly folds the stroller faster than you can say Jiminy Cricket. You sigh and laugh.

All these thoughts run through my head as I bike home. Suddenly, I see a roadblock ahead. Yes, there straight ahead of me is a nanny and another double-wide stroller. The street is narrow which is why I'm biking on the sidewalk but knowing that the DW is approaching and that as much as I value my life, no one will like me if I knock some kids into the street while trying to save my own ass, I know I will have to veer into the street to avoid the DW. I see the nanny start to shift uncomfortably. She knows that the navigation ahead will not be smooth. I smile and calming start to head into the street, trying to make things easier for her. However, a pothole greets me. My bike begins to wobble and I end up having to awkwardly hop off my bike and jam my toes into the concrete and my butt comes into full contact with the bike bar in the middle. Ouch. I stand up as cars honk at me. I dont know if they are laughing at me or honking to see if I'm okay. I dont really care. I'm already mortified that half of the people probably think I dont know how to ride a bike.

The nanny and the DW have already passed. She is struggling to push the DW up a small hill. I see the toddler peek his head around the edge of the DW and I swear, a faint smile crosses his face. He knows the DW has bested me. And it will continue to best me.