Young fathers angle their prams through the shop door backwards, expertly reversing without mirrors and without grazing the wooden ankles of a single shelf. Then they assess the angle, the space and the occupants of the pram. They often consult a reading list on their phone.
Young women, drive in forwards. Then they repack the luggage, apologise twice to everybody and say that they love books. Their prams are always loaded with children, clothing, spare shoes, water bottles, shopping, toys, days, hours and minutes.
Regardless of who drives, the passengers look out serenely and climb out hopefully.
Everyone wants The Very Hungry Caterpillar and I hardly ever have it.
Everyone is told not to fiddle.
All children stare at the fishing tree.
They always leave a bear or a shoe next to Science and Nature, then the family have to come back again to find it.