I wanted to take my daughter to the mall.
That shouldn’t be so difficult, right?
I overheard her on the phone saying to a friend, “You’re so lucky that your mom likes to shop. My mom HATES the mall.”
It’s true. Malls, like carnivals and amusement parks, give me anxiety. They always have. When I was my daughter’s age (11), adults and peers thought there was something seriously wrong with me because I relaxed under a tree at Kings Island amusement park in Mason, Ohio while my sisters and friends headed to The Beast, the tallest, fastest, and longest wooden rollercoaster in the world in 1979 when it was built.
I was managing my anxiety just fine at the mall until we hit the main drag when the kiosk people come at you like spider monkeys with their hair straighteners and phone cases and perfumes.
“Ma’am, here you go,”…
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