Mallrats

We had to go to the mall yesterday. We had an upscale need, so we couldn’t just go to the mall that’s a couple miles down the road from our home; we had to go to the swanky new mall that’s a couple dozen miles down the road from our home, except the “road” here is an interstate. This place is so ritzy, it’s literally in the next county; it’s so chic, it’s a “town center” instead of a mall.

Also, it’s so hip, it has an Apple Store, which is the entire reason we made the gas-guzzling journey, although its classier Gymboree store didn’t dissuade Ellie. We’re trying to watch and record television programs on my Macintosh, which is so intricate that we had to talk to a live salesperson with extensive knowledge of Mac products to discover that it’s too expensive and complicated to try.*

Our system while shopping is the parent who’s actively shopping pushes the twins in their stroller, while the parent who just needs to occasionally check price tags to know that the other one is spending way too much concentrates on running interference on Abbie. Since this purchase is supposed to be a Father’s Day gift, I kept Abbie happy, or at least content enough to not scream. This being a hip store, it was easy to keep her happy with computers everywhere. Not that the computers initially kept her happy, but she thought their chairs were awesome. The chairs are 2-foot high plush balls with the bottom couple inches sliced off for stability. When she realized they were too heavy and sure-footed to roll them though, then she noticed the computers sitting in front of them.

They had four computers loaded with games that were educational in the sense that they educate children about licensed characters like Nemo and Dora. They were far too complicated for her to play, but that didn’t stop her from enjoying them when somebody else played them, like that little boy who she kept trying to shove out of the way to point out the fishes. Eventually I found an open computer and sat down to play it for her, although since they were children’s games, I couldn’t figure out how they worked.

When Ellie received her “how much ya got?” answer, she drifted into the Gymboree conveniently located on the way to the mall, er, town center’s exit. I entered with her, saw the shelves filled with matching tops, pants, shoes, socks, hats, purses, jewelry, and MAKE IT STOP!

Overwhelmed, I let Ellie shop in piece while I took Abbie to the convenient nearby playground. After finding a bench next to other orphaned fathers, I removed Abbie’s shoes and let her go. We’d never visited this playground before, and Abbie took advantage of its freshness by going up and down the half-dozen slides scattered throughout regardless of any other children who may be near or on the slide at the time.

That kept her busy for about three minutes. After that, she found my bench and spent the rest of the time playing with her all-time favorite toy: Dad. She bounced on my lap, which I found a little annoying in that she ignored the thousands of dollars in never-before-seen playground equipment, but at least it was a great way to tone my arms.

After several minutes of bouncing and a little flipping off my lap, Ellie emerged with the twins and a full shopping bag. We walked back to the car and planned some additional stops. After driving so far, we might as well visit a few places that are on the way home. Of course this far from home, just about everything is “on the way home.”

* This person was hiding behind several tables filled with iPods and parents who are far too middle-aged to be so visibly rocking out to Coldplay.