Yesterday, while David took Luke outside into the arctic wasteland our neighbourhood has become, I spent the afternoon researching 5-star all-inclusive family resort vacations in a number of exotic tropical settings. If I weren't suffering from some sort of mental breakdown brought on by acute cabin fever, I would laugh disdainfully at the very notion of spending $5000 on a 5-star all-inclusive family resort vacation. Never mind the fact that we certainly don't have $5000 to spend on a 5-star all-inclusive family resort vacation. We don't even have $500 to spend on such a thing. Nevertheless, our poor financial situation did not stop me from spending three hours yesterday afternoon making detailed comparisons of resorts, especially ones that feature all-day programs for children and unlimited "free" drinks for their parents. It was kind of tiring. It's very difficult to find exactly the right five-star all-inclusive family resort in exactly the right location. Especially if you're looking to spend, say, $50 per person per week and you really want a suite with an ocean view, marble bathrooms with multiple shower-heads, top-end towel art (it's more important than you might think), and a personal concierge. After spending all afternoon researching vacations until my eyes went buggy, I dreamed about resorts all night. Of course we're not going anywhere but I sort of kind of feel as if we already might have. If while we were there I had a great deal to drink -- only because I wanted to get my money's worth, of course -- and maybe experienced a head injury.
So maybe the following things I believe to have occurred today never actually happened at all:
1) The telephone rings. It is across the room. "Luke," I say. "Get that phone for Mommy, will you?"
He wanders slowly over, picks it up, and brings it to me. It stops ringing just as I answer. "Hello?" I say. No one's on the line -- whoever it was, they've already hung up. I set the phone down.
"Hmm," says Luke, going back to his blocks. "Must be a tele-mahkah."
And
2) I am reading a magazine article about why it is important to argue with your spouse. Next to the article is a full-page photograph of a cave-man and a cave-woman huddled on opposite sides of a tree. Luke peers over my shoulder. "Oh!" he exclaims, pointing at the cave-man's dirty, bare feet. "I REALLY like those TOES!"
God, how I am dreaming of a vacation somewhere warm. Anywhere warm. With almost any amount of stars, really. Maybe even devoid of towel art, if I must. But no, instead, I really MUST finish the damn reno on the third floor, if I can ever hold my head up unaided again. Crap. A recent and unexpected $3K inheritance to be spent on freaking drywall.
Posted by: kittenpie | January 28, 2008 at 09:09 PM
But if you go during the off-season, it's a bargain, right? (And by bargain I do mean "slightly less expensive than the rest of the time, but still equivalent to 6.2 years' worth of disposable income.")
Posted by: Melissa | January 29, 2008 at 12:15 AM
Unfortunately, all the money we don't have this year -- and probably for at least the next 6.2 years, come to think of it M -- must be spent on "home improvements." Like you, kp. Only in our case they're less "improvements" and more efforts to stop the neighbours from coming round in the middle of the night and setting fire to the place...
Posted by: Stephany Aulenback | January 30, 2008 at 04:35 PM