Mall games

I took Elliott to the mall this afternoon for a couple of hours or until he completely melted down, whichever came first. We were getting out of the house today to give my sick wife some rest. (And yes that sentence was included as a gratuitous plug at showing what a good husband I am.) I needed to price new refrigerators anyway and I didn't feel like pirouetting Elliott away from his myriad noise-making toys for two hours while Shelbi was sleeping.

As I've mentioned before, I've ventured to the mall with much greater frequency since Elliott has been around. It's an easy way to get out of the house periodically and there's plenty for Elliott to enjoy. He loves those awful cars and trucks and make noise and move back and forth when you put money in them but, fortunately for me, he still doesn't have 50 cents worth of an attention span so he is more than happy to simply run between one vehicle and the next whether they're moving or not. He loves soft pretzels and he loves the plush Sesame Street characters and Barnes and Noble and he loves people.

I, however, am not much of a mall guy. I admit that I take a modicum of enjoyment out of going to the mall shortly before Christmas by myself with a set list of items to buy and seeing how quickly and efficiently I can accomplish my task. I weave in and out of Victoria's Secret bags and men holding 50 ounces of orange julius like a nimble running back. There is an adrenaline rush to simply embracing the holiday madness and then kicking it up a notch. It is also the one time of year that I will venture into certain stores. I hit up Bath and Bodyworks for approximately 5 minutes every Dec. 23rd. That's my limit. Any more than that and the skin starts peeling from my face. I had to go into Hollister a few years ago for a gift card for my sister and it was like I was hooked up to the machine in The Princess Bride that sucks your life force. "Not to 50!"

But it's simpler times in the summer. And today I actually found Elliott to be a valuable asset to my experience. It's always interesting to see people's looks when I am alone at the mall with Elliott. They range from 'Oh, isn't that cute?" to "Is that guy stealing a baby? Does some authority figure need to be contacted?" He is both an attention magnet as well as a deterrent which, to me, is far more useful. Clackamas Town Center is packed with kiosks which house the facility's most useless commodities. You've got your smokeless cigarettes, your cheaply built remote controlled helicopters and your calendars featuring impossibly cute cats and dogs. And the salespeople at these kiosks are always incredibly aggressive. You can do a masterful job of avoiding eye contact but, suddenly, one will still somehow be completely in your face asking if you have a minute. Usually I have to resort to making a fake phone call through this section. But today, while awkwardly pushing Elliott's stroller with one hand, holding his cup of milk and a Starbucks coffee cake in the other, I managed to not fit into these peoples' demographic which, prior to today, I thought consisted of the entire human race. Nope. They avoided me like the plague. 

A similar thing happened in The Children's Place. I picked up a cheap pair of pants for Elliott and, right as the clerk was starting her speech about how I should sign up for a rewards card to save %5 blah blah, Elliott launched into one of his favorite games. I call it "Yelling to see if this room echos." It's not unhappy screaming. Far from it. But it's loud screaming nonetheless. And if he doesn't like the results, he's a persistent bugger and starts Level 2 of the game in which he yells louder in an attempt to force the room to echo. The sales clerk stopped dead in her tracks. I didn't even have to politely reject her offer with a "Maybe next time." Three seconds into her speech she realized that she wanted me out her store as quickly as I wanted out. So thank you Elliott. You're getting better ever day.



"All of our Japanese Cherry Blossom body butters are 30% 
off today!"

 

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