Okay, so we didn’t exactly skip town. That implies spontaneity. On a whim. That’s not how we roll. It was a well-orchestrated, planned in advance, over-analyzed and quite frankly, it took a village. But the husband and I managed to get away for the weekend sans children. The last time we left the boys, we only had two. And we lived on a different coast. Our baby is four years old.
Hold the phones, ye wise sages of marital wisdom. We know. This adventure was long overdue.
We bagged the excuses, carved out the time, and away we went. We’re grateful for grandparents, uncle, aunt and three cousins (I told you … a village) who welcomed our posse into their home for the weekend.
We couldn’t decide where to stay and read about eleventy billion reviews online before choosing this place. I have to say that growing up in a family business that depended on tourism for an income, as well as living in a town where bed and breakfasts are plentiful … I feel like I have a pretty good handle on what “bed and breakfast” means. Yet every time I stay in one, I’m surprised. Our room was lovely, the breakfast delicious. No complaints there. But I’ve decided that a breakfast that involves a meet and greet with strangers and adult conversation is not my thing. I’m so not a morning person. Add a flamboyant host who wants to mesh a stand up comedy routine with everyone’s life stories … needless to say, we were outta there in a flash and dined at Starbucks on day two.
We did see some interesting characters performing for tips on every corner. Mostly musicians with their guitar cases open, but we saw a few other artists. This guy was our fave. He changed his arm position occasionally and would bow if someone tipped him. But mostly, this was his deal. Crazy weird and cool all at the same time.
We waited in line for tables at fun restaurants and ate scrumptious food that would have made our children beg for a chicken nugget.
Visited the summit of Mt. Mitchell (brrr!) and enjoyed a beautiful drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway.
Most importantly, we remembered what it was like to be married to each other instead of just two resident assistants clinging to our sanity in a frat house. Oh, the joy of starting and completing a conversation with one’s spouse.
Occasionally we wondered how the children were doing. Were they okay? Was Eli alright without us?
Yes, he looks quite miserable, doesn’t he?
It would appear that a good time was had by all.
