You’re invited to come with me on this new adventure — motherhood.

Jumped on board officially this summer when I married a single dad raising his young daughter who was 11 when we met two years ago.

Being a mom is something I’ve wanted for a long time, and I want to be really good at it. So when my new daughter came to me with an idea for her upcoming birthday, the pressure was on.

“How about a mall scavenger hunt?” she suggested.

Basic idea is invite a bunch of kids, break them up into teams and give them a list of things to find, buy, photograph or do inside your local shopping mall.

I picked ideas that sounded fun from different lists. Then, I went to local mall day before the big party to find inspiration.

It was at the Customer Service desk where things began to go terribly wrong.

“My daughter is having a scavenger hunt here in the mall this weekend and I was wondering if you could steer me toward some creative places around the mall that would make great clues?” I inquired.

The woman’s friendly “Can I help you?” expression dropped.

“You’re actually not allowed to have a scavenger hunt in this mall,” she informed me. “So I cannot help you.”

Gulp.

“Well, it’s not like we’re actually hiding things for them to find,” I backtracked. “They’ll just have to walk around the mall taking pictures of some things, like sit down with a family you don’t know in the food court. Extra points if everyone’s smiling.”

The expression on the woman’s face now looked like she was about to alert Homeland Security. “There is no photography allowed in the mall,” she said flatly. “Security. You understand.”

I decided the show must go on with some adjustments. I cut way back on photographs, group shots only. Decided to have the girls scribble down answers to questions instead.

“Technically, you’re not allowed to have a scavenger hunt here in the mall,” I informed the girls as 14 teen faces looked back at me with a mix of horror and delight that a parent would set them up for what my new daughter was deeming an illegal activity.

“Therefore,” I explained. “This isn’t a scavenger hunt.”

The girls looked at the top of the search lists. “Mall-A-Rama-Wama!” I had typed.

“If you get stopped or someone gives you a hard time, just tell them it’s not a scavenger hunt, it’s a ‘Mall-A-Rama-Wama.’”

I did it half in jest, but five minutes after setting off, one of the teams got “pulled over.” In what sounds like a scene out of “Mall Cop,” the girls were told, “You can’t have a scavenger hunt here in the mall.”

“Oh, no ma’am,” one of my daughter’s friend respectfully told the mall cop, “This isn’t a scavenger hunt, this is a Mall-a-Wama-Rama.”

“Whatever it is, it’s over!” the mall cop declared.

That’s when the girls called me in a panic. “How’d she bust you?” I asked.

“She saw us checking our list,” the girls replied.

“Well, just put the list away and carry on. And be discreet about looking at the list,” I advised.

They followed my advice for continued mall insurgence. In the end I received no complaints from other parents, the girls were well behaved and seemed to do nothing to disrupt a huge shopping day at the mall.

Best of all was the last thing my kid said to me that night as I tucked her in.

“Thanks for planning such a great party. It was really awesome,” she said.

Wow. I might be new to this parenting thing, but even I know your kid telling you you’re awesome is a feeling they don’t sell in any mall in America.