I love the idea of of being in this picture. Dear Child cavorts in the pool. Delighted Husband schmoozes his clients, and I lounge in a chaise, my laptop anchored on a snowy towel in my lap. The technological life of Riley. Right? Except the screen is difficult to see and the keyboard is getting hot!
We initially stayed at Hotel A which promised a suite and gave us a tiny room with a token 1/3 wall separating the bedroom from the living room. The living room where Dear Child is supposed to sleep. Privacy? What a crock. Our bed is about 2 feet from the sofabed. Hello. That's not privacy. It's too bad too, because the bed is a puffy cloud of a bed. With a full length mirror directly across from it. I was *really* looking forward to making and viewing some hot little love scenes in that mirror but it was not to be. Dear Child drank too much caffeine soda pop (cause we're on vacation!) and the beloved little darling could*not* go to sleep. I called in the reinforcements by asking my girlfriend to pray and lo and behold Hotel B presents itself. When Hotel B says suite they mean sweet. A separate bedroom with a wall full of mirrors. Booya!