Apologies in advance

…for my family.  If you come across us at a hotel and/or near an elevator.  We’ll probably annoy the crap out of ya.

My 9 year old daughter has always had an obsession with being the one to have the card key to the hotel room (she realizes its power), and although no longer 3-years-old, she still has to be the one to press the elevator button.  Our son is of the personality, where he typically wouldn’t care about such things…HOWEVER, because they are a big deal to his sister, they are now a much bigger deal to him.  He must do/have control, as well.

So these 9 and 11 year old kids will have battles.  We are that family standing with all our crap, as the two kids are arguing over who will open the door.  Mom/dad will grab key and give it to one, stating the other can do later.  Typically, it’s the younger daughter, to which our son whines, “You always chose her.”  (yeah, deal with it.  You’re in training, dude, for the eventual girlfriend/wife you’ll have later.)

Then, of course, the card key won’t work (red light keeps flashing) as we continue to wait.  Our daughter is unwilling to be defeated and will chop off our arm if we try to assist.  Until those times she gives up or eventual success…then we have those glorious moments of where the kids like to chose their bed.  Except, are dismayed every time to realize mom and dad chose their bed first… “WHAT?”

Now we have the next battle.  You two can either share the bed, or we have the floor mat.  You know the drill, we alternate nights- one kid gets the bed and the other the floor.  If we are only staying one night, the person who takes the floor gets the dog next to them as a perk.

It was so great to see my son finally maturing.  This last trip, he was like “I don’t care.  She can pick.  I’ll take whatever.” I gave him a hug.  Do you think his sister was good with that arrangement?  Oh, hell no, he said what? “I’m not going to pick, he needs to pick.”

So this goes on for about 30 minutes…he eventually picks the floor so he can have the dog next to  him.  My daughter then throws a fit, and decides to be very unreasonable stating she wants both the bed and the dog.  Sorry.  That’s not the deal.  She makes it her mission to ruin the rest of everyone’s evening.

Going to breakfast the following morning, we have to hit the elevator.  Once in the hallway, my son announces,

“It smells like a vaccination shot in here.”

I laugh because this is something I’d TOTALLY say.  We both have stuffed noses most of time, so when we can breathe, we can identify a smoker a mile away.

Of course, my daughter has to correct him: “You mean a flu shot?”

Now, I’m pulled in the conversation…No, he means vaccination that covers all the shots.  And although I don’t know what a vaccination smells like, I have to agree the disinfectant they use is strong and like a clinic.

During this conversation, another hotel guest arrives and waits with us for the elevator.  My son attempts to hold back his sister’s shoulder so the gentleman can get on first…but she assumed her brother was trying to enter before her…she BODY Slams him with her shoulder and side, while simultaneously stomping on his foot… just so she can press the floor number.

“GOSH, mooooom.  She stomped on my foot.”

How do I parent this fine moment?  To the sister, Why don’t you do that in soccer? We better see that on the field. We are gonna yell ‘just like the elevator.” and to the boy whining, “oh, you’re twice her size, suck it up.  It’s a good thing she’s wearing flip-flops and not cleats.” 

Hey.  I haven’t yet had my coffee.  Don’t judge.  The man in the elevator thought it was hysterical, probably was going to blog about it later.


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