Ninapintasantamaria's Blog

{July 23, 2010}   Conversations with my husband

aka Things aren’t always what they seem
aka What part of “I want to spend my vacation vacating/laying by the pool/getting a tan/generally relaxing and not blowing money and running around the whole time” did you not understand?

*sigh* My dad’s travel tragedies are genetic. We were involved in 2 (count ’em, 2) accidents while there. Neither one was our fault, but still. Someone hit us from behind (this caused no damage, as they were traveling at a low speed) then, this am, the bellboy was bringing the car around, and the manager of the parking garage backed into our car! (This cause some front end damage.) So, we spent an hour and a half this am with the police and the hotel manager, and on the phone with the insurance company. My husband booked us in the only hotel in Savannah without a pool. So did I get a tan while on my vacation? No, I did not. Now, it was a really nice hotel, with bellhops and turndown service, and wine tasting, and such, (and it had better have been, since it was sorely lacking in the pool department), but seriously? I’m perfectly capable of hauling my own gear, getting my own ice, I don’t drink wine, and no, thank you, I do not want you running to my car for me to retrieve my bag from Wal-Mart that had personal stuff in it, I’ll get it myself, just tell me where you parked the damn thing, thanks. Paula Dee.n’s restaurant was a bust, we waited for 45 minutes with reservations, and it had like six things on the menu, unless you wanted to eat from the buffet. I really don’t like buffets. I realize I have issues, but buffets are just icky. People sneezing in them, kids sticking their fingers in stuff, people that don’t get a new plate each time (And you know they’re out there, or they wouldn’t put up those signs. It’s like the “do not eat” labels they put on the silica packets in your new shoes. Who thinks of this stuff to do?), and sundry other ickies. And we were suffering from Fletch-ulence. He screamed the whole time, unless one of us was holding him, I assume because no one loved him, or fed him, or played with him, the sun was in his eyes, someone farted too closely, I don’t know. But these all sound reasonable. Anyway, the six things on the menu were a lot of fish, mushrooms, etc that I don’t eat. I finally ordered the shrimp and grits, and in reading the description, it didn’t actually say that shrimp was in the dish (I know, it sounds stupid, but I thought maybe the name was figurative in some way, not literal) and it was disgusting. I’m the pickiest eater alive, so it probably was really great (it was Paula D.een after all) but I’ve been raised on crap, apparently, and I like it. The Mel.ting Pot was no different. I thought they brought you stuff to dip in fondue thingies, oh no. You have to cook your own food, because they bring you this plate of raw stuff and expect you to know how to cook it (I live in deathly fear of raw meat/fish/chicken and the diseases that accompany it). And the Fletch-ulence was viral, evidently, because it flared up again, here. *sigh* I did enjoy walking around in downtown Savannah, but I’ve become convinced that every child in the state of Georgia is guilty of indecent exposure because of the severe shortage of diaper changing facilities anywhere in the entire state. I did finally find one in Cracker Ba.rrel, and of course, since that was the cheapest meal we ate while we were there, I loved it.

You’re all going to laugh at me. I just know it. I’ll post pics later, but I caved. We bought one of those baby harnesses and strapped it on my husband. Downtown Savannah has almost no wheelchair access ramps, so stroller transportation became damn near impossible. Luckily, he didn’t have to pee. That would have been awkward. However, Fletcher really seemed to like the harness. He laughed and giggled and flapped his arms and kicked his feet, and seemed to have a good time. We bought him a little bucket hat to keep the sun off him, and it was the cutest thing! He’s got as many girlfriends in Savannah now as in Nashville. Absolutely everywhere we went people stopped to talk to him and compliment him. I was only a little bit proud. He’s also trying to get mobile. Yeah, we didn’t bring the pack’n’play because we didn’t think we’d need it. We found him under the bed. He now rolls to get where he wants to go. I now need a vacation from my vacation.

et cetera