The Mall of Satan
I always say shopping is cheaper than a psychiatrist.
~ Tammy Faye Bakker
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I love to shop! Seriously, I do. If I had an endless supply of cash (and patience) I would shop all the time. But, since I have neither of those, I must do this in moderation.
Daughter of the year #1 had a gift card that has been burning a hole in her pocket since Christmas. So we decided to head to the mall for some fun and shopping. The girls and I immediately headed to Justice so she could spend her gift card. Now, the mall was busy today but I've never let that stop me. However, I seemed to step into some sort of pre-teenager hell when I crossed that threshold. First the music was LOUD! Second, daughters of the year decided this would be a good time to start screaming. And, third, I had a stroller. YIKES! I left a bit of my soul and my sanity on the cheap tile in that store. Thankful doesn't seem the appropriate word to describe how I felt when we left.
After cruising the mall for a while, daughter of the year #2 had been begging to go play. So, we headed to the mall play area for a bit of fun before leaving. Plus, I was hoping both of the girls would tire themselves out enough to sleep all the way home.
I immediately knew we'd entered into some fiery pit of doom when we parked the stroller and strode onto the spongy floor. I had no idea hell had such comfortable flooring. Daughter of the year #2 seemed visibly scared of what was to be a fun place to play. I quickly snapped this photo of her standing, watching the others play, determining if this was a good choice or a bad one. Finally the girls went to play. They seemed to be having a good time except daughter of the year #2 would not go anywhere without her sister holding her hand while they played. They once got separated and her fear was so heavy in the air, I could have cut it with a knife.
After several minutes, it dawned on me, the brother sister team who had run past me at least 5 times, sprinting around and around the play area seemed visibly unaware there were other MUCH smaller children playing. More than that, I began scanning the room for their parents. There were such small children playing that I was afraid they might trample one of them and wasn't there a mother somewhere that was having their mommy senses going off like mad that something bad could happen? Just then, daughters of the year ran up to take a break.
As daughter of the year #2 scrambled into my lap and knowing I didn't have to keep my eyes on them, I scanned the play area briefly.
"Do you see that, mom?" daughter of the year #1 asked.
"Those kids running?" I replied.
"No, all the moms and dads not paying attention. A little kid could get hurt and they aren't even watching," she explained.
"Yeah, that's probably not a good choice. But maybe some of these parents are doing something important," I said, trying not to let on we were thinking the exact same thing.
"Puh-leeze mom," she said. Now she had my full attention. "That mom is on Facebook and that other one over there is playing that friends words game. And that one over there is texting."
She was right. There was barely a parent looking up. They were all heads down, on their cell phones. Some texting, some on Facebook. Most, in general, just not paying attention. I breathed a heavy sigh as the brother sister duo ran by again.
I'm not passing judgement by any means after all, I parent in my own unique way. I just don't think it is a wise choice to visit a place like that and not pay one bit of attention to your children much less, do so in a manner that is easily recognized by my 8 year old.
As the girls put their shoes on and we walked across the spongy floor of doom, I felt a little surge of pride. Daughter of the year #1 recognized the necessity in keeping children safe and how not watching your children closely could end badly. As we crossed underneath the shiny plastic tree and out of hell, I smiled, knowing that maybe - just maybe - I've done a few things right on this road to mom of the year.
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