New Year Poo

My husband is somehow incapable of planning anything any more, and I get stubborn and refuse to do it, and there is a lot of “what do you want to do?” “ I don’t care, what do you want to do?” “ I don’t know, what do you want to do….” This usually goes on for about 20 minutes until I stop it by beating him to death with a bat (in my imagination of course, not reality) and by bat I actually like to picture a rabid screaming vampire bat vs. the traditional weapon of a baseball bat, which seems oddly to boring for my imagination to settle on.

I choose this time to just take the screaming frothing bat out of the picture and plan something myself. Since we were robbed of our usual excursion to see grandkids in Missouri for New Years, I thought maybe a nice road trip in the shocking 50 degree temp would be fun and relaxing. So we drove to a few places that we used to go when we were younger, we drove to Lake Erie to small parks and summer places like Geneva on the Lake and wandered on the shore with our memories and stories, and held hands while the seagulls bobbed on ice chunks. We stopped for dinner at a marvelous little Italian restaurant where the chef was the owner and the food was just impeccable. It was like a New York City restaurant plopped in the middle of a nearly vacant winter coastline, but there were a few of us there, shocked at the spectacular tastes and aromas. It was just a late lunch but we stuffed ourselves like walruses and waddled out to the van.

We drove along the Lake to Conneaut Lake Park in PA, where we took the kids when they were little. A closed tiny amusement park that is stuck in the 1920’s with ancient rides and a rollercoaster whose age was much more frightening than the ride. It was so cute and we walked around it remembering the trips and the fun. The hotel is still there, also from the 20’s and we wondered inside to the lobby which may just have been a time machine itself, slipping us back to a time of Victorian opulence and beaded lampshades. I of course, was immediately in love and wanted to stay there forever, whilst my husband could only see the building bursting into flames or (as he kept pointing out later) the fact that the place was obviously build long before indoor plumbing was all the rage and there may be one toilet per floor. He was convinced upon arrival that there would be a basin and pitcher of water in each room. They offered a New Years special of dinner, midnight buffet of appetizers, open bar, band, dancing, room, and breakfast for $175 a couple. A fabulous deal (“I am not sharing a bathroom with New Years drunks with little to no aim” he kept whispering) I get it, but it had this dinning room that overlapped the lake with huge glass windows and ducks on the water (“one wayward spark and this place will go up like a barn full of dry straw” he kept whispering.) I get it, but it was amazingly cute and I almost forced the issue, but he was really right, and it was really old and I like my modern plumbing and cable and so we left.

We drive a ways, the GPS letting us drift about the back roads and state routes, with no time restraints, but it was now dark and we needed a hotel before the roads were filled with amateur alcoholics. So the GPS gave us some options and I called them, found one with rooms and not freakishly expensive. And with a bar/restaurant available for New Years. We get there, they were nice, clean, friendly and we get our key and go up to the room. It was a little on the small side, but okay. No remote we realized and called the front desk, he says he will bring one up, nice. So I have to go to the potty first, and flip on the light……..

To find poo on the seat, the back of the toilet and splattered about the tub. OMG. About vomited, started screaming, and running about putting my coat on, announcing how I was getting outta here and they could just give me my money back, because this is nasty and disgusting, and I ain’t having it. The non-suspecting front desk guy shows up during this, with my remote, and I drag him to see it, and he does not want to see it, but I insist that he sees it. And show him not only was it poo, but explosive poo and horrid and he freaked and I was freaking and my husband was out the door with the suitcase. Fortunately he did give us a really nice upgrade for free, and it was hugely gorgeous and spacious and well worth the freak out! Very special room, a suite. It was so nice we just got food and stayed in it all evening, relaxing in the space.

So it ended up okay, although we had drama.

I guess sometimes you have to witness poo to get to the sweeter part of life!!!