My husband turned 30 this past Sunday. To celebrate, I wanted to do something fun and fancy, but since he is impossible to shop for (if he wants it, he buys it) I opted for an old fashioned kidnapping.
We packed in the morning and checked into the Aliante Hotel close by where we used to live (and it was a super nice hotel, I was pleasantly surprised by how cool the décor is inside) before Neil got home. So do you see conspirator #2 in the purple leggings? Yeah, turns out 3 year olds are great at keeping secrets until there is a pool and swimming involved. In which case, all bets are off. “Daddy! We are going swimming at the hotel!” was the first thing she said to him when he walked in the door. [epic face palm].
I was so proud of my secret keeping skills this time round. He really thought that his present was something I had ordered online and was hidden under our bed. And I didn’t even technically have to lie! I win!
So even though he knew we were going to a hotel, he still let me blind fold him.
Floor to ceiling windows with a great view from the top floor and the TV suddenly became superfluous.
Birthdays need presents to be complete, so waiting on the bed was “Wreck it Ralph.” We loved it, which was another pleasant surprise. And even though the pool was closed, the “ja-cozy” (little man’s way of saying it) was open so we went down for a bit, after eating a picnic dinner in our hotel room.
One of my favorite things about staying in hotels is that you end up watching stupid TV because nothing else is on. Since this fact is an integral part of the experience, even Auction Kings and Boom or Bust: Real-estate wars of Arizona suddenly have added charm and nostalgic value. We woke up Friday and raced home to milk goats (still happens every morning) then raced back to the open pool. After the first swim of the season, we met up with my Dad (Thanks again Dad/Grandpa!) and had a great lunch followed by lots of hanging out and chatting.
After Dad left, it was on to Garyn’s idea for Daddy’s Birthday…Bowling! That will be it’s own post, however. Munchkins in clown shoes deserve extra attention.