Part 2 of 2. For part 1 of 2, click here. So, getting married at Christmas seems really romantic when you do it. But when you are on your 9th year of marriage and for at least 5 of those years you have forgotten you even HAD an anniversary until days later when you are up to your armpits in sugar cookie dough, gift wrap, and regret, you start to realize your mistake. Sure, it would be great to have an anniversary "observed." But that's for someone way more organized than me. Someone who doesn't forget that her anniversary exists at all.
So last year, we made a concerted effort to really celebrate. Because frankly, we needed it. Pregnant with numero quattro, husband working long horrible hours at a thankless job AND going to school, clinical depression, lack of direction, you name it, it was sucking our life force. What I wanted more than anything was just to SLEEP. Really sleep well. With three young kids crawling into our bed at all hours of the night and begging for cereal at the crack of dawn I just wanted 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep.
So I begged my mom to take my kids and made some calls. I wanted to spend no more than $100 on a motel room (I almost typed HOTEL, but seriously, who are we kidding?) but I also wanted a jacuzzi. In the room. And that could only be accomplished in one place. Just across the bridge...The Super 8 in Henderson, Kentucky.
Everything is cheaper in Henderson. Gas. Cars. Even their cigarette tax is cheaper (not that I have personal experience with this.) And there was something about driving an extra 30 minutes, across state lines, that made our little getaway more romantic than staying at the Super 8 in Evansville. It's the little things.
My husband brought roses, I brought the Welch's Sparkling Grape Juice (the traditional celebratory drink of my tee-totaling family) and special order maternity lingerie and we snuck away to Henderson full of giggles. We had MADE it! Kids-free (sans the womb-dweller) and across state lines. YEE-HAW! Let the debauchery begin! And by debauchery I mean sleep. Or...whatever.
$100 a night does get you a jacuzzi. There was even a painting of an Italian villa over on the wall by the jacuzzi. The wallpaper border around the room had been artfully ripped away in that spot. To the left of the jacuzzi, our bed. And next to the bed? A nightstand. The front of it had been ENTIRELY ripped off, leaving exposed nails. The debauchery must have started before we got there.
Certain activities left us hungry, and we were curious...what sort of exotic cuisine awaited us in Henderson? We pulled out our trusty iphones and decided to search Chinese restaurants. We drove to three different locations where our GPS promised that crab rangoon would await us and poof, nothing. We finally just drove to a restaurant that we knew existed because it was right by our hote-I mean M-OTEL. Tumbleweed. Because nothing says romance like a hugely pregnant woman eating mediocre Tex-Mex at a chain restaurant.
After some under-whelming food spiced only with our waiter's personality we returned to the Super 8 to digest and try out the jacuzzi. If you are picturing a dimly lit room and lovers whispering sweet nothings while surrounded by froth, try again. There was no whispering because the Jacuzzi was SO LOUD. "I love you." "WHAT?" "I LOVE YOU." "Oh, yes, I love you too." "WHAT?" "I LOVE YOU TOO!" I started to feel like a heroine in a b movie, in a cannibals cauldron or perhaps a lava pit. The bubbles were HUGE. I thought I might drown. And my foot kept hitting something. I picked it up with my toes...and it was metal guard for the floor jet. Three of them had popped off due to the sheer force of the water propelling out of them.
But you know what? I slept. Uninterrupted. All night. Even the broken shower in the morning couldn't take that away from me. As we left that morning Hugh went to return our key and let the owner know there was a couple of issues with the room while I waited in the car. "Next time you stay in this room," said the owner enthusiastically, pointing towards a photo of another, larger jacuzzi room that was also $40 more per night. "Come, I show you!" Hugh politely declined and we set out for our home across the Ohio, making sure to stop and get some Chinese food before we picked up the kids.