Susiej

We left the pool, and decided to take advantage of the hotel’s award-winning Nature Trail and Wildlife Estuary. The tall trees and shrubs will give us a much-needed break to hide us from the gawkers at the pool the sun.

No one needs to go back to the room for a pit stop, so we’re off. There is a beautiful Promenade to walk through in front of the hotel to get to the Nature Preserve. The hotel is covered from ground to cloud in glass windows, allowing guests to have a full view of the promenade.

But alas, what was I thinking? My 5-year old suddenly has to go potty. There is no bathhouse close to the pool. The only way to the bathroom is to walk into the hotel lobby, across the slippery marble floor, past the open-air restaurant to get there. Now, that I am so much wiser and older since the last bathroom incident, I know we will never make it across that marble floor without leaving a puddle. (I might add here, that I am so proud that they do not pee in the pool. At least I did something right.)

I spot a very thick, high hedge, with an opening. I direct him into the opening, and stand guard. Simultaneously, my 8-year-old says, “My sandal just broke.” I pick up the sandal, to examine the damage, and the 5- is now done, but I notice now that he is still wearing superman underwear under his bathing suit. Now wet from the pool, he’s having trouble getting that stiff 100% cotton pulled up around his bum. So he hikes one side up, then the other, then the bathing suit, switching from side to side, while running to try and catch up with his brothers. I sincerely hope the convention is engaging, and that the attendees are so busy listening to the speakers, and talking amongst themselves that they hardly notice what’s going on outside. I’m sure that’s it.

We continue following the 3-year-old, who is leading the way to the nature preserve, my 8 has ditched the other shoe, and is now barefoot. I catch up. Now this is nice – Eight acres of salt marsh and mangroves and a six-acre tidal pond create a welcome respite.

Now, more have to go to the bathroom. I will not name names to protect the innocent. With 4 boys in various ages in tow, my caravan moves slowly. Contact me, and I’ll be happy to send the boys off with you for the day if you don’t know what I mean. I’ll even hang around to gawk watch. We’re pretty far into the sanctuary by now, far away from civilization, and we are in the tropical woods. I direct them to a tree, and we are soon greeted by a very nice middle-aged couple that appear out of nowhere from around the corner. She smiled at me, and pats my shoulder, and says, “I raised boys too.”

By the time we return, the boardwalk has given my children no less than 8 splinters on 40 fingers, as they groped the side rails for closer views. And that’s how I spent my evening in the hotel. The hotel sewing kit, antiseptic, and tweezers, curled up underneath the crisp hotel sheets. I realize that I am getting so old that I need bifocals , as I can hardly see the splinters up close — they’re all fuzzy. Thankfully, Daddy is much younger, and came to the rescue, pulling out all the splinters. So, aside from the incident on the elevator, which I will post later, this week, that was a day.

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Filed under: Laugh, Life, boy |