Road Trip Continued....

Dear Mr./Ms. Hotel Manager:

Thank you for your hospitality and great service this past weekend. The rooms were clean, the pool was excellent and the complementary breakfast (read: coffee) was very nice. I do however have a few comments for you for future reference.

Firstly when your reservation staff books a ‘team’ of any sort you might want to do a little demographic research on the team. In this case you have a team of 16 six and seven year olds and guess what? They all, but one, have siblings. You gotta at least double the number of children checking in. In our case there were some families where 2 or more siblings came along. Do the math buddy – the number of kids just tripled. Can you say kids freaking everywhere?

Secondly, excellent idea to put most of the team on one floor, but the top floor? What were your people thinking? Sixteen or more kids running up and down the four flights of stairs to get to the pool. You ever told a seven year old to be quiet while running up the stairs with a half a dozen of his buddies? Ya, not going to happen.

Thirdly, not sure if you noticed but you have a pub attached to your hotel. I can drum up at least a dozen reasons where problems are going to arise from that alone. Need I say more?

Lastly, and most importantly, what in the heck possessed your people to fill an entire floor with a team of orangutans EXCEPT for one room? And in that one room: old, cranky people who want to go to bed at 7:30 at night? To add insult to injury you stick the curmudgeons right beside the stairwell where, you guessed it, the kids were running up and down the stairs from the room to the pool, pool to the room. Who the heck goes on vacation to stay in a hotel room and go to bed that early? And where do these people come from who feel compelled to yell at little kids. Bed and breakfast people, bed and breakfast.

Thank you for an entertaining stay. If we ever come to your lovely town again we will be sure to book under a different name, however I do expect that you will take my suggestions into consideration.

Yours truly,
Team Manager

Road Trip - Part Two

No you will not be reading a detailed diary of the aforementioned Road Trip mostly because I spent the entire time searching for Monkeyboy who, with his clan of merry men, decided to practice his magic disappearing act the entire weekend. So between looking for my delinquent, fielding complaints from the hotel staff and answering questions about the location of places in a town I have never been to before (do I look like a concierge?) I wrote almost nothing.


The weekend did start off as odd as it ended however. Parked my vehicle at the ferry terminal to wait patiently for the next boat and was approached by a lady (and I use that term loosely) who wanted to know if I could give her husband a ride. Apparently their, what looked like 1970 VW, van broke down and he had a “gig” to get to. Well, let me think about that? Huh, sure lady, I’m gonna take your half baked, Birkenstock wearing husband with all his band stuff and give him a ride to some undisclosed location. What the heck. I like living on the edge. Does he have a weapon we should declare to? After I give the kid, who I am not pissed off with at this point, the “look” and tell him to get back in the vehicle I politely tell Mrs. Purple Hammer Pants that I don’t have room. Well, if nothing else she gave me something to chuckle about for a couple of hours.

My very enthusiastic plans to hit the pub and have a few bevys fell through as well. This event alone causes my blood pressure to rise. My babysitters were lured away. That’s all I can say.

Although I did not manage to document enough back up to politely tell the coach NO to the road trips next year I do have enough personal ammunition to remind him why this weekend should never be repeated. And remind him I will. Often.

The Road Trip - AKA: What the fuck was I thinking

I continually amaze myself at the predicaments I get myself into. Why, oh why can I not just sit back and do things the easy way? Alas, I must challenge my patience and inner resolve to be all that I can be in the parenting arena. This weekend I embark upon one of the great challenges of having a child who participates in sport. The Road Trip. (I can hear you all groaning now however, I am sure you cannot wait to read about and come along for the Ride of Pain.)  Yes, you read that right: A Road Trip with 16 six and seven year olds, a whack of siblings and all the respective parents who drew the short straw.

When the coach suggested a road trip at the beginning of the season it was all I could do to conjure up thoughts of what exactly will be fun about travelling with that many kids. I suppose it will be fun to play teams from other towns? Oh, honestly, that’s all I can come up with. I can just picture it now: 16 crazy Amazon children running all over the ferry, hotel and arena reeking havoc all over the place. Vacation you say? Oh no not for me. I have to stay in a hotel room with one man, two stinky teenagers and one Monkeyboy. I might just sleep in the car!
To make matters worse I was elected the Manager of this whole shin dig. I am sincerely hoping that by now the parents on the team have recognized my winning charm and propensity for sarcasm because, after an entire season of planning and abuse, if even one person complains I may go all Jerry Springer on their ass.

When I stop yelling I will keep a journal of the events that occur for your reading pleasure and for me to have a detailed record of the shenanigans so when I get asked again to book a road trip I will have sufficient documentation to back up my NO.