They built a mall about an hour away from us. It is in the shape of a crescent moon. Lucy and Otto have forgotten memories of mall adventures in America. Here in Kentucky France, there are no malls. With Nana in town, we decided to pack up and see what this “moon mall” was all about.
After a long drive, we made it inside. The girls were very loud and full of commentary. “SSsshhh, not so loud,” I’d say. I felt very country-in-the-city and that maybe I should get them out more. I looked at the pasture. I found a sign “Entree Troupeau” – “herd entry.” Aaaah, very funny.
It was all clean and sparkle-arkle. Bouncy castles, shops, lights, camera, action. Nowhere for cows to graze. The girls bought lipgloss and shoes and dresses.
Lucy’s friend recommended the potato restaurant. A tractor was parked out front. That should be interesting. Google translate will tell you that the French word for “potato” is “pomme de terre,” but they are wrong. Pomme de terre is the French word for potato, but the real French word for potato is “patate.” Tomato – Tomate. Potato – Patate. Let’s call the whole thing spud.
Doing the obligatory here’s-what-I-ate shot, I was loving the simplicity of melted chocolate with marshmallows. A dessert I pull out when I’ve got nothing for dessert. We enjoyed our meal and trooped back in for more shopping.
I had to teach Minty how to shop. Sometimes you go to a shop and like something, then you leave and go to another shop to like something. Then you go back to the original shop and buy it or leave it … rinse and repeat. Minty cried. It’s all too much. She got the hang of it. It didn’t come naturally.