Pram Cowcatcher

The shopping mall, or high street: wide, rolling prairie, an expanse to be traversed timeously, in accord with your exacting mental timetable.
Shoppers: cattle, plump flesh obstacles, lolloping oblivious across your path.
Your child's pram: a mighty iron steam engine, heavy with momentum, charging straight forward, trajectory inviolate, bovine consumers thrown left and right by the unyielding form of the pram's cowcatcher, the spanging and slamming of meat on metal prossibly submerged beneath the spastic handclaps and gleeful chuff chuff woo-wooing of your infant.