Hell in a Hotel
Mr. Yoy and I rounded everyone up for a quick weekend trip to NC. To keep our trip budget friendly, we reserved a hotel room with two queen beds. We were unsure of the exact configuration, but it would be all four of us in one room. No adjoining rooms for us this time. Boo!
Our road trip started off slow. We left a little later than planned which guaranteed that we'd get snarled in the sh*t storm that is Atlanta Friday pm traffic. On Fridays it begins promptly at 11:30 am.
We finally arrived in Durham close to 11 pm. Big E had powered through and remained awake for all 350 miles. Little E passed out mere minutes into the drive, but woke up around 6:30. He slept just long enough to ensure that he would never go to bed that night.
Once we had everyone and everything in the hotel room. I frantically set up for bed. On went the white nose machine, much to Mr. Yoy's displeasure. But we had an early start in the am and these kids needed to get to sleep ASAP.
Obviously, I was staying in one bed with Little E. He was delighted to sleep in such close proximity to his mother ship. He immediately snuggled in. There was to be no space between us. At least according to him. I, on the other hand, needed a little room. I ordered Little E back to his pillow. Through my eyelashes, I watched in amusement as that little thumb sucker slowly inched his way back to ground zero. It was no use. I rolled over and tried to unwind. Even though I knew in my gut this was going to be the longest night ever.
I had just about fallen asleep when I heard Mr. Yoy.
MRS. YOY! THE ALARM COMPANY JUST CALLED. OUR HOUSE ALARM IS GOING OFF.
Sweet. Not only am I a zombie, but now I was sitting two states away while all of our worldly possessions were being raided by thieves. If they were running out of our house with my first generation Kindle and anniversary pearls, they better grab my Dyson as well. That thing is always mocking me.
But now I was really awake. We figured out it was the motion sensor and the dog sitter must have set the alarm to away. Unfortunately, Poodle Yoy jumps up onto the couch which sets off the motion sensors.
The police came by, but there was nothing to report. Except for a freaked out geriatric poodle.
It was after midnight. Our kids were amped.
I moved into bed with Mr. Yoy. We told our children to knock themselves out as were going to sleep. I popped my ear plugs in and rolled over.
The boys spent about thirty minutes turning on and off the following:
1) Faucets on the sinks. Yes there were two and easily within reach.
2) Lights. On all fourteen switches.
3) White noise machine. Who switched it to the beating heart, anyway?
Mr. Yoy and I lay in bed quietly plotting ways to ditch our offspring. We were both frustrated and exhausted.
Big E tuckered out first. He settled down and amazingly, Little E followed suit. Creeping towards one in the morning, the room finally went quiet.
I had hoped the blackout shades would have allowed the boys to sleep in, but Big E was within inches of my face right at seven. So much for that.
It was then that Mr. Yoy decided we'd be hitting the road that evening, instead of staying Saturday night. And we were never, ever, ever going to share a hotel room with these people again.