The Mall Playland Part 1

I like to take Baby J to the playland inside our local mall - I'm really not sure why.

The mall is pretty depressing. A lot of the chain stores you'd expect to see in a mall have been shuttered, their storefront windows black and dusty. It's almost like you can see the U.S. economy withering right in front of your eyes. Springing up in some of these vacancies, obscure vendors take root and peddle odd knick knacks. There are places selling knives, two dozen pungent nail salons, and a few stores that buy gold where you can pawn your precious wares.

In the center of this decrepit and dying commercial complex is a small, walled-in area with padded floors and fiberglass structures for children to climb. I call it the mall playland for lack of a better name and I go there a couple times a week.

Usually, I like to go to the library but that's a quiet place where literary families go to look through books. The mall is an all-out run-and-shout fest for both parents and kids alike. Kids leap and lunge. Run and rage. It's loosely controlled mayhem.