Last night I took my paternal grandmother shopping at the mall. She wanted to get a few items she had seen in an ad. I knew we were in trouble right off the bat when she was huffing and puffing walking from the handicap parking space to the mall entrance. Upon entering the mall, she complained of the extreme heat inside. She is hardly ever hot. But I thought she might need a few moments to cool down after exerting herself in the parking lot, which was indeed quite hot. We shopped for awhile, she continued to huff and puff, and complain of the heat. 15 minutes in, we made our first stop at the bathroom. After which, we wandered the misses section of the store for awhile, and she couldn't find anything she had seen in the ad. She decided she couldn't leave without buying something, so she turned her focus to my children. I said that they didn't need anything, because I didn't want her spending her money on them, but my grandmother could not be dissuaded. She could probably be considered somewhat of a shopaholic. Always has been truth be told. It really is more the thrill of the buy and the shopping "experience", than owning the actual item. Nine times out of ten when she gets an item home, she is eager to return it the next day. She decided which store we needed to go to in order to find the kids something, and of course it was at the other end of the mall. So we began our trek. On the way, she had to make another bathroom stop, so we detoured through a large department store. She kept getting distracted on the way to the bathroom, stopping to look at clothes. She would take a few steps, and then ask, "What store are we in?" I reminded her where we were. She stopped to look at another blouse, and then asked, "What store are we in?" I told her again. This continued all the way to the bathroom. It really made me feel sad inside. When she came out, it was clear she was worn out, and in no shape to continue walking and shopping. I wanted to leave, but she HAD to buy something. The bathroom was only a few yards from the children's section, and while this wasn't the store she had set out for, I decided we would just shop there. A few minutes after we looked, she asked if we were in the store she wanted to be in to buy the kids clothes. I sadly said, "Yes, Grandma. This is it." She didn't know the difference. "Oh good," and she began to shop. This was definitely the sad side to senility.
Finally, when we were on the way out of the mall, we approached a large display of stuffed animal pillows, ones that made noise. There were four teenage girls giggling and playing with the pillows, hugging them, and squeezing each one to hear the sounds. My grandmother was pausing and looking at everything, drinking in the last glimpses of merchandise before leaving the store, so she did not notice the girls. The girls decided the pillows were funny enough or cute enough to pose with and have their picture taken. So, they set up their camera, lined up, hugged their pillow of choice flashing large smiles and waited patiently for their camera to take the picture. Then I see what is about to happen and I am powerless to stop it. Grandma, always a sucker for stuffed animals, obliviously walks right in front of the four pillow posing girls, sticks her face inches away from their camera, picks up a pillow, and the camera flashes. The girls began to laugh hysterically. Grandma, still clueless, looks at me and says, "What happened?" I apologized to the girls, they were all gracious, saying they were just being, "goofy teenagers, you know how it is..." I muttered that I thought I remembered how it was, and easily steered grandma away from the pillows. I would have loved to see that picture. I am sure that it will give them a good story to tell their friends. This was the funny side to senility.
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