Training finished up tonight at 10p and amazingly, I made it through my first full CPR and First Aid class with few hitches (someone hurry up and knock on some wood for me!) I turned the lights off in the building and scurried out to my car like a nervous school girl. I’ve never liked being the last person out of a building at night, you know? Even though I am in a sleepy little town that would make Bellefontaine look happenin’, I made sure I had my keys sticking out between my fingers just in case.. you know, someone tried to jump me and steal my awesome manikins.
The drive to the hotel was only 5 minutes and once inside I could hear the sounds of kids at the pool. And since I had to walk through the pool area to get to my room (the very last room in the very last hallway, naturally) I got to confirm those suspicions: there were many children at the pool. Cannonballs were erupting into loud splashes and quieter waves. A couple of smaller children were wearing floaties and being supported by parents. Another group of tweens were eating pizza and feeling very cool and grown up.
I remember being young and LOVING hotels. I mean, my parents got off easy… we didn’t care if we didn’t even leave town- as long as there was a pool and a vending machine and an exciting new place to explore, we were happy as little clams.
After a few years of living out of a suitcase, my thoughts about hotels are more along these lines:
Why is every hotel room decorated in beachy pastels? Is there some rule that demands all hotels buy comforters that have those strange 80’s kind of patterns? Why no overhead lighting- is the sconce that much more superior? And seriously- do they ALL use the same laundry detergent or is that just the smell a bed gets when it has a new person or persons sleeping in it every night?
This particular hotel is actually nicer than most… its kind of quaint like this small town… but it still has that pleasant staleness. Its nice but impersonal. Clean but well used. Spacious but empty.
Hotels are busy places… but are deafeningly quiet when you visit alone.
Can anyone tell this mama is missing her little Snuggle Bug tonight? I just can’t help thinking how much more fun the new place to explore, the pool, and the vending machines would be if Cohen was here to splash in the pool, climb all of the room, and beg for ‘dinks’.
Before you have a child you cannot imagine having to give up privacy and selfish living and convenience, but once they arrive, its hard to imagine how you ever enjoyed the smallest activity without being blessed to see it through their new eyes.
Love you, Cohen Reid!