Mr. I wanted to go to the mall (gulp) to celebrate his thirteenth birthday (bigger gulp) with four of his friends (massive gulp). His original plan was for me to drop him off, despite our rule of no wandering in malls until you are old enough to work in one. Seemed like a good enough rule to me, but Mr. I didn't like it so much. We finally worked out a compromise. I would go with them, but stay far enough away that the boys felt a little freedom.
The boys didn't get squirrelly until after they ate and circled the mall twice. Fortunately, everyone was done walking around that place. The boys survived, I survived, and Mr. I was happy.
I don't enjoy going to the mall anymore. It just seems all shallow and materialistic. It's hard for me to justify mall prices when I personally know people who have almost nothing. I'm fortunate that the older sisters don't mind taking the kids for their mall fix. I try to avoid it if at all possible, so I rarely go. Each time I do, I'm surprised with something new. The last time I was amazed by lights in the refrigerated section of a store that would automatically turn on as I passed by. This time it was a vending machine with diapers, crayons, and other baby and child supplies near the restrooms.