I took last Friday off to make a lovely 4 day weekend out of Memorial Day. I even booked it out of work early Thursday and goofed around Target all by myself.
Friday morning just as I was about to announce to my husband in a mopey fit that I didn't want to go anywhere at all and maybe the big excitement for the weekend could be new bedroom curtains it suddenly occurred to me that we never go anywhere let alone on a real live vacation and next thing I know I'm bidding on a fancy schmancy hotel on Priceline and we're shoving crap in bags and driving to San Antonio. Just like that.
It was crazy. I didn't even call my mother and tell her we were going anywhere. I kept thinking she'd call me sometime during the weekend saying she'd be dropping by my house that afternoon and I'd get to surprise her and say don't bother because we're in a galaxy far, far away. Except I guess she forgot about her only daughter and never called so I didn't get to do that. Whatever.
Our hotel probably isn't the fanciest hotel in existence but for people with 2 small children and normal jobs, it was above average fancy. Priceline continues to impress me with bargain basement prices on 4 star hotels. Seriously, bargain basement. This time ours was called the Emily Morgan Hotel and when I called to get directions, their recording described it as a "luxury boutique hotel." It even claimed to be 12 steps from the Alamo. I thought that was the sort of over exaggerated crap hotels like to claim. Sort of like when they claim every room has a beach front view except there's a building in the way and really you can only see a sliver of what may or may not be water if you lean directly out the window and look left while you balance on your tip toes. But it really was 12 steps from the Alamo's side gate. It was insane.
They didn't even have a refrigerator in the room. Because people that stay in boutique hotels apparently don't try to cut corners by bringing soda from home. They do however pay $24 a night to park their car. And when they get really hungry but too lazy to drag their kids out into the night to get something to eat they pay $19 for 5 pieces of ravioli from room service. No really. $19. I mooched food off my husband who was enjoying a $29 steak. Which sounds even crazier than the $19 ravioli except my husband's plate contained enough food to actually leave him feeling full. So in comparison with the ravioli that left me contemplating vending machines it was actually sort of a bargain.
The children found the entire thing very exciting. Except maybe the 4 hour car ride. For example, the 4 year old asked how much longer we had to drive before we'd even left the city limits. Mostly she wanted to know when she'd get to see Shamu again. That was our main plan for the trip. Blowing the family fortune on room service was just an added benefit.
The kids both gave the hotel beds high marks for jumpability. They had both exceptional spring and were positioned close enough together for maximum back and forth leaping fun. Too bad people that stay in boutique hotels apparently enjoy full size beds instead of queen size. My husband and I both bed hog the hell out of our queen size bed at home so I can't begin to describe the ongoing power struggle that went on in that little full sized bed. Except to say that somewhere during the last night my husband decided the floor was preferable.
And the bathroom in our room didn't really have doors so much as sliding sort of screens. Screens meaning don't try to get up early and take a bubble bath because the light will shine directly on everyone that's sleeping and suddenly it will be time to feeding the starving masses.
Although the bathroom more than made up for the screen type doors by containing a giant jacuzzi tub. I want to fold that tub into a little square to tuck it in my pocket and take with me everywhere. Never have I, a devoted bath connoisseur, experienced such luxury. No back rest needed. No body parts got cold because the water didn't cover them. And I didn't have to bend my knees the whole time. My husband will rue the day he let me lay in a jacuzzi tub if he take too long getting me one of my own.
And incidentally, jacuzzi tub + baby shampoo = an entire hour of bubbly entertainment for two kids while you and your husband lay in separate full size beds watching Law & Order reruns. Beautiful. So was the trip. Thumbs up and glad I decided not to be mopey.