Two weeks ago I packed my bags and ran away. I pulled out of the driveway, carefully trying not to run over the crumb snatchers in the road crying, “Who will feed us?” I hit the road to Atlanta for a much needed weekend of relaxation with a girlfiend–that is a friend who is a girl. Even a hamster needs to occasionally step off the wheel.
I arrived and checked into the hotel. Lo and behold, I was welcomed by a lobby full of giggling teenage girls in town for a cheerleading competition. Is there no such thing as escape?
Friday evening, I checked in at home. Chief Money Maker asked for my recipe to Mexican casserole, Sweet Pea tattled on a sibling, and G-Bear asked if he could go outside and play. I hung up the phone and let the battery run down. Accidentally on purpose, I had forgotten my phone charger.
On Saturday morning, my friend and I headed to the lobby to enjoy breakfast prepared by someone other than ourselves. The dining room was packed with cheerleaders stacking their plates with breakfast fare. The food bar screamed out for relief. The chef appeared from the kitchen door, disheveled and looking like she had just run a New York City marathon.
Just like breakfast at home, the eggs were gone. Biscuits were gone. Sausage was gone. The food-deprived teenaged athletes stood with plates extended begging for more, reminding me of Hurricane Katrina survivors waiting for humanitarian relief. Fortunately, the All-Bran cereal hadn’t been touched so my friend and I didn’t starve.
Later, we ventured out to the mall for some shopping. Obviously, we didn’t think that through very well. We were once again surrounded with cheerleading competitors with their bows and perky little voices. I heard one say, “Mom, can I have some money?” Instinctively, I grabbed my wallet and almost handed the child my debit card. Chief Money Maker was unknowingly close to purchasing a Coach purse at Bloomingdale’s for some teenage stranger from Florida. Thankfully, my friend snapped me back to reality.
Later that night, we sought out a place where our chances were slim of running into teenagers. Johnny’s Hideaway seemed promising even though neither of us is named Johnny. We were thrilled to find the place packed with patrons in our age demographic—old enough to have teenagers but too young to escape to a nursing home—and spent several hours listening to music where you could actually understand the lyrics. I begged Johnny to let us hideaway forever but he said, “Hey lady, I’m not Johnny.”
I also had a wonderful dream during my get-away. I dreamed I came home and found the beds made. The towels were changed and neatly hanging on the towel rack. The dishwasher was loaded and running. All the crumb snatchers were waiting on me hand and foot. Then I woke up and realized it was only the hotel staff.
But alas, the weekend had to come to an end because Chief Money Maker’s hotel rewards points were depleted. If you get the chance, I certainly advocate taking a break every now and then. Take my advice, though, and book an adults only cruise. Just make sure it isn’t on that Italian cruise liner that keeps sinking and having fires. You’ll just feel like you never left home.
It was a wonderful weekend and I enjoyed sharing some quality time with my dear friend. I returned home where the madness awaited, and alas, none of the crumb snatchers died from starvation. But, I did learn something from my weekend get-away. Our crumb snatchers aren’t that different from others across this country. They are all hungry and ask for money.
© 2012 CThacker