how low can you go?

Today we went to the mall to get the kids some haircuts. We got there around 11am, and while the mall itself was open, the stores didn't open until noon; nobody wants to interfere with church.

I wandered into the adjoining department store to marvel at how horrible my skin looks under fluorescent lights squeeze my blackheads look at lipsticks while Stupid Daddy watched the brood. When I came back twenty minutes later, all three kids were flat on their stomachs on the skanky carpeted mall floor, each reaching an arm into the darkness under one of those carts that dispense a handful of candy for a quarter, scavenging for pieces that had spilled out--or been spit out--and left there. And their mouths were moving; they were finding enough to keep them busy.

"That's so disgusting," I said to Stupid Daddy, who was sitting not ten feet away, keeping an eye on them.

"Yeah, it is," he agreed amiably. "But look how content they are."

I was kind of conflicted. If you've ever taken three little kids anywhere in public, you know that keeping them quiet and entertained is a challenge. So on the one hand, I could definitely see his point. But on the other hand, Ewww.

I resolved my ambivalence by simply walking away, window shopping through the stores' locked gates, and pretending I was in no way attached to them.