Those Johnston Kids were worn out from hours of screaming at the World Waterpark the evening before, so they slept in on Wednesday, July 15. Our closest neighbours at Elk Mountain, were just up the hill, behind some bushes. They weren’t visible, but they were surely audible at 7 AM as they packed up their camp. I could, but won’t, give you a fairly detailed account of who they were, where they were from, how long they’d been camping, where they were going next, and what they thought of the couple they had shared the campsite with. Monkeys are dumb. Wrap them in lycra, completely transparent to sound, and they think they’re in a sound-proofed room.

I made pancakes for breakfast. Papacakes are the best.

Since we had gone through the West Edmonton Mall directly to the water park, and then right back out again afterwards, we hadn’t actually seen the place. We went back to have another look at a more leisurely pace. We’re not shoppers by inclination, but continent’s biggest, you know? The halls of shopping still didn’t work for us. I bought some rechargeable batteries at the Source, which stopped being cool when they stopped being Radio Shack, but that was about it.

Things got more interesting when we found the ice rink. Yeah, an ice rink. Not in a chilled arena, mind you, but out in the mall. People in shorts walking by with frosties, plastic bags from H&M, and Kernels popcorn. Baby Girl wanted to go and I’ve never skated in the midst of a mall, so we rented some skates. The girl at the counter was not suited to public service. At all. We had a fun skate in our shorts, although Mama had to go buy socks. Baby Girl and Short Pants learned that skating in shorts is novel and liberating, and also very hard and cold when you fall. BG mostly falls on her knees, so she turned red and bruised. SP mostly falls on his butt, so he was wet and sore. They didn’t fall much, but their ankles gave out after an hour.

We continued our expedition into the heart of the mall. The next bit of weirdness we stumbled upon was the huge indoor pool, decorated with faux rocks and corals to look like an ocean lagoon. At one end there was an ornate full-size pirate ship that could be rented out for special events. At the other was an amphitheatre for ocean mammal shows. When we arrived, a sea lion show had just started. The gates were closed, but there were spots around the outside of amphitheatre that offered a view of the show. Those Johnston Kids thought it hilarious to see the seals clap and ironically clapped wildly in appreciation. I refrained from a long moralistic rant about keeping sea mammals captive for ocean shows, much less ocean shows on the prairies. I will refrain here also, but you may pause reading here and take the next 20 minutes to imagine my very dim view of the practice.

Next we found ourselves in some little used corner of the mall that appeared to be undergoing renovation. World Vision, the charity, had set up a ‘3D experience’ in the dusty and ill-lit hallway. It was a large maze-like structure. Inside, an attendant gave us iPod devices and headphones. Each device was supposed to have a recording of a different third world character’s story that would play like those turn-the-page recorded books they used to make for children. (Do they still make those?) Instead of turning a page, we were supposed to move through the maze, viewing pictures and reading background details about the character’s life.

I think that was how it was supposed to work. The guy reading the story spoke slower than a waiter at the Manitou Springs Hotel. It was hard to concentrate on what he was saying because my mind kept rushing ahead to finish his sentences. Then, as I went through the various rooms at the recorded prompts, nothing seemed to make sense. Living the third world experience was very confusing for me. By the time I got to the end, I was so frustrated that didn’t really care if my character had AIDS or not, and I certainly wasn’t about to buy her a chicken. I described my experience to the attendant and she checked my iDevice. Apparently mine had been set to shuffle play. My life often feels like that.