My husband and I were able to sneak away without the children for a quick get away a couple of weeks ago.
Well, by without the children I mean without three of the four.
By get away I mean my husband had a conference to go to for church stuff.
We did get away, though, to the big city of Indianapolis. We got to stay in a hotel and everything.
Apparently, that's all it takes to make my husband's life complete.
As we entered the hotel lobby Lee's eyes lit on everything - the leather couches, the fruit bowls, the people at the registration desk smiling, waiting to be of service.
We got to our room and Lee was more starry-eyed wonder. I had a clear picture of what he looked like on Christmas morning when he was 8.
We had just had time to stash our suitcases, find the t.v. remote and use the facilities when the phone rang. Lee answered with hesitation. While he listened his grin grew larger.
"Oh yes, we love it. The room is great. It's perfect. We love it. It's excellent," he answered the caller's question.
I waited expectantly for his exuberant explanation.
"That was the front desk!" he practically shouted. "He wanted to know how our room was! Can you believe that they called to ask? This is the best place ever!"
Clearly, we don't get out often.
I coaxed the hubby out of the room so we could go to conference-y stuff for a bit.
We returned with a tuckered-out two year-old, full bellies, and tired legs.
After a movie in bed it was lights out, yet Lee was restless.
"Do you think they'll call tomorrow?" he asked.
"Who?" I wondered.
"The front desk."
"I don't know. You're weird. I'm tired. Be quiet." I said.
Finally, the only sound was the whirring of the air conditioner going full blast (this also make Lee giddy). Just as I was starting to drift off Lee coughed.
"What now?" I was growing more impatient and cranky.
"Do you think we could live here? The kids would all fit on the pull out bed, or with adjoining rooms. It'd be perfect. We have everything we need. The icemaker, the vending machines, clean towels every day."
"There's no kitchen," I say, exasperation dripping from my tongue.
"I know. But there' the front desk!"
Clearly he's thought this through.
Oh, how I love that man of mine.
Well, by without the children I mean without three of the four.
By get away I mean my husband had a conference to go to for church stuff.
We did get away, though, to the big city of Indianapolis. We got to stay in a hotel and everything.
Apparently, that's all it takes to make my husband's life complete.
As we entered the hotel lobby Lee's eyes lit on everything - the leather couches, the fruit bowls, the people at the registration desk smiling, waiting to be of service.
We got to our room and Lee was more starry-eyed wonder. I had a clear picture of what he looked like on Christmas morning when he was 8.
We had just had time to stash our suitcases, find the t.v. remote and use the facilities when the phone rang. Lee answered with hesitation. While he listened his grin grew larger.
"Oh yes, we love it. The room is great. It's perfect. We love it. It's excellent," he answered the caller's question.
I waited expectantly for his exuberant explanation.
"That was the front desk!" he practically shouted. "He wanted to know how our room was! Can you believe that they called to ask? This is the best place ever!"
Clearly, we don't get out often.
I coaxed the hubby out of the room so we could go to conference-y stuff for a bit.
We returned with a tuckered-out two year-old, full bellies, and tired legs.
After a movie in bed it was lights out, yet Lee was restless.
"Do you think they'll call tomorrow?" he asked.
"Who?" I wondered.
"The front desk."
"I don't know. You're weird. I'm tired. Be quiet." I said.
Finally, the only sound was the whirring of the air conditioner going full blast (this also make Lee giddy). Just as I was starting to drift off Lee coughed.
"What now?" I was growing more impatient and cranky.
"Do you think we could live here? The kids would all fit on the pull out bed, or with adjoining rooms. It'd be perfect. We have everything we need. The icemaker, the vending machines, clean towels every day."
"There's no kitchen," I say, exasperation dripping from my tongue.
"I know. But there' the front desk!"
Clearly he's thought this through.
Oh, how I love that man of mine.
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I can see Dave doing somewhat the same thing ;) It doesn't take much pampering for these men. A true sign they need it more I guess.
ReplyDeletesome people will have a mansion in heaven but i will be totally satisfied in room 619 in the hotel in indy by the airport, it was truely a little slice of heaven complete with my own beautiful angel named kara !!!
ReplyDeleteyou are ridiculously precious, husband.
DeleteThis was pretty cutes guys. :-) Lee i will take room 623 as long as the walls are sound proof!! Together we can rent room 621 and make it our main living space and have a kitchen built for kara and abigail. I think u r on to something. What a suite life!
ReplyDeleteOh boy....Roger don't give ideas this could end poorly for Kara and I. Remember our idea of a shared mansion? I think that one sounds better.
DeleteLOL! I love the idea of a shred mansion...we could all find rooms to hide in. :) Lee is easily taken care of - he would just need a t.v. and dumb waiter to deliver food.
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ReplyDeleteMy Aunt Kay lived in an efficiency room inside a hotel in downtown Chicago. It was great to visit her. She would cook eggs for breakfast, a sandwich for lunch, and eat supper out, occasionally in the hotel restaurant. I may move there later in life. But not Chicago weather. Maybe in Hawaii with my surf board again. In other words, I totally agree with Lee.
ReplyDeleteDad, I am totally unsurprised at this. :) BUT, You can't move to Hawaii without us.
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