I would like to go on a trip. I would like this trip to be someplace where there is a big pool, and lots of well behaved young people whose job is to solely cater to my snack and beverage needs. I would like it to be quiet, or at least loud in a mannerly way, and very sunny. I would like to be near the ocean. I would like to be able to see the ocean from the pool, and vice versa. I would NOT like this place to be anywhere near to where I am right now.
Funny thing about me is I don’t really like to travel. I don’t like that my life is momentarily controlled by some uncaring person at an airline. They don’t care if I get places on time, or if my luggage gets there with me, and I really do care. It’s the lack of control that makes me dislike travel. That and foreign bathrooms. Shudder. I want every bathroom I go in to function the same way. No strange appliances, no hot water in the toilet (Russia). No weird pine scented toilet paper (Ukraine).
I don’t mind the idea of traveling the world to check out foreign 4 star hotels and 4 star room service. I would be one of those annoying tourists that only left the hotel for nicely labeled English speaking restaraunts where there is nothing in my food that could potentially give me amoebic dysentery.
No in all honesty, I’d be more adventurous than that. I just don’t know what I’m going to tell Caden when he wants to go camping. “Mommy doesn’t camp.” Unless camping means a really nice RV with a microwave and soft toilet paper. And a mattress.
I think about travel alot this week, because I haven’t really done anything other than be at the house. Today I went out with Jo and Tyler, and we ate ChickfilA and visited Aaron at work. I took him the chicken strips I was too morning sick to finish.
Of course now that I’m home, I’m hungry. Luckily I have the fixin’s for an egg salad sandwich. And fritos.