Our local mall is....sad. A few small anchor stores, a lonely food court, several cheap clothing choices. If Jesus were born in modern times he might be born at our mall instead of a stable. It's basic. It's called Georgia Square Mall, but my Columbian college roommate called it just "the square mall."
There was a parade welcoming Santa to the Square Mall today. The ads said there would be local marching bands, dancers, costumed characters, and "great fanfare." What fun! The Boy and I went early to make sure we didn't miss it. When we got to Santa's workshop nothing was going on. We waited. And waited. And waited. Slowly a crowd began to gather and gossip about who would be in the parade and where they heard it would start. This was also the first day for pictures with Santa, so lots of tots were dressed in their finest. The longer the waited the more kids melted down. Puddles of sobbing red velour and white faux fur dotted the floor. We continued to be on the lookout for Santa and friends, and luckily someone brought binoculars.
The Boy was content to sit on the nearby mall rides, and chase the remote control helicopter display around and around the middle kiosks. After 30 minutes I was ready to give up, but he was happy and he asked nicely if we could continue to wait. A mother clucked under their breath "this is SO unorganized!" while she scraped her velour puddle off the floor. I gave them my best "been there, done that" smile.
After 30 minutes a mall employee came out with a walkie-talkie and a Santa hat. Her name was Bernice, probably. She directed the line to move over to the side and several parents asked her questions. She was drunk with power, and told everyone everything she knew.
After waiting almost an hour The Boy and I went to check out a store. I was confident I'd hear a marching band when it was time. When we came out, I saw a crowd of people walking in Santa hats. Maybe they were here for the parade. We followed them, and it turns out they WERE the parade.
The parade consisted of Santa, Mrs. Santa, a cop, and a step team. Good thing we were on the lookout. We followed the "parade" to Santa's workshop. Everyone perked up and waved to Santa. The Boy was thrilled. "Mrs. Cwause waved at me!" he said. I was relieved he wasn't disappointed.
Once we got to the workshop mass pandaemonium ensued. Someone came out with about a dozen helium balloons, and there were now about a hundred people. I thought a riot would break out. A group of kids dressed all the same started chanting "WOW! Word! Outreach! Worship! Wow!" Santa and Mrs. Cwause took their places inside the gates of the workshop and waved like celebrities on the red carpet. The step team started stepping, right in the middle of the crowd. Suddenly there was a single clogger in the crowd: an elderly lady with an eye patch and a name tag that said Edna. She had a handler with her.
I was hoping Edna would clog for us. She even had on clogging shoes that went clog, clog, clack when she walked. I asked The Boy if he'd like to get a picture with her. He declined.
As far as I could tell, the show was over. Santa was caged inside his enclosure, and the step team and the WOW kids had disbursed. I told The Boy we could walk upstairs and take a look and then we were leaving. On our way upstairs, a WoW kid gave us a gospel tract with a piece of candy taped to it that said something about Jes+us. We sat upstairs and spied below for a bit before leaving.
As we were leaving we saw Jake the Pirate, and went to go say hello to him. But before we could get there, he turned and took off up the escalators, running from a group of kids. The Boy asked indignantly "Why are those kids chasing Jacob the Pirate?!" I had no answer.
On our way out we saw Bernice appear with another bundle of balloons. She pushed quickly through the crowd like Beyonce through the paparazzi, stopping only to hand balloons to those she deemed worthy. She slowed momentarily in front of us, yanked a string from her bunch and thrust it at The Boy. "Here you go, honey, tell your mama to tie that to you" she said, over her shoulder. Then, in the single most perfect moment of the morning, she came face to face with Edna and said, with all seriousness and a hint of irritation "Morning Edna. I can't talk. I've got balloons!"
The Boy was happy to go home with a balloon. There was no marching band, and no Dora or Elmo, but we saw some characters all right. The Square Mall did not disappoint.
