Letters To Laney: It's Marvelous At The Mall

Dear Laney,

I don't have to work at all this week, and it's left me all jacked up on freedom.

So once again, I decided we should spend the day in town, because what better time to return a pair of jeans to the mall than four days before Christmas?

The best addition to our kitchen in ages has been the Ikea step stool that you can climb all by yourself. While I was telling you of our plan to go to the mall, you climbed up and helped yourself to a bagel. Apparently, you agree with Peg Peg that a serious day of shopping requires a solid breakfast. One that's roughly the size of your head.

Thanks to your newfound access to the kitchen counter, we get to make discoveries like this:

I guess it's nice that you put it back where you found it, but I'm not sure that our apples need gouges in them, courtesy of your chipmunk teeth.

After your lumberjack breakfast, we drove into town and hit the mall. I was able to wrangle you AND all of my selections at The Gap, and I got to the counter feeling like a champ...which is when I realized that my wallet was no longer in my diaper bag, because you had pulled it out somewhere along the car ride and had left it on the backseat. So back to the car. Then back to The Gap, where a 20 minute line had formed. (Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking, but the sale was TOTALLY worth it. Hush).

Now, being in a retail space with you is always hit or miss. Yesterday, when we were at Costco, we happened to go through a line with a very homely checker. As she was ringing up our purchases, you reached into my purse and offered her my lipstick. I know this was totally a coincidence, but it made for a perfect storm of awkward when I tried to explain to you that some people don't want to wear make-up. But today, you were a patient peach, and I didn't make an ass of myself! Win/win!

In fact, you were so good that I let you play in the fountain. You know, adjacent to the sign that says something about not letting your kids play in the fountain.