Category Archives: hotels

Maybe it’s a dybbuk?

J’s parents do not get much time with their grandsons, given that there are five time zones and an ocean between them.  Our boys adore their grandparents, the grandparents adore their grandchildren, and everyone wishes they could see one another more often.  Because we are such accommodating parents, we decided to give them all the opportunity to spend a little quality time together without us around to interfere.  J’s parents are in London visiting, and – much as we really wanted to stay and help them care for the children – we decided to cash in on some hotel points and leave town for a few days so they could have some good, solid bonding time with their grandchildren.

Talk about sacrificing for your children.           

“Where will you go?” people asked.           

“It doesn’t matter,” we answered.  Frankly, we have spent very little time out of the hotel room.  If they catheterized me, I am not sure I would actually want to get out of bed.           

Our plan got a little wrench thrown in it the first night.  We went to sleep around 10:30, after a few frantic calls to L.A. preschools to determine whether they will have spots in early April so that Zachary is not out of school for six months.  (We do understand that he won’t fall behind academically if he misses a few months of preschool, but I do not think I will survive if he does not have someone else to talk to for six straight months.)  It was absolutely delicious getting into bed knowing no one would wake me up in the morning.           

What I did not count on was getting awakened long before morning light.  Around about 1:30, we were awakened by a click, strange music, and an eerie glow.  Disoriented, we both looked about, trying to figure out what was going on.  Finally, one or the other of us realized that the television, of its own accord, had switched on.  J stumbled out of bed, grabbed the remote, and turned the box off.  We went back to sleep.           

Three minutes later, a click, strange music, and an eerie glow.  The T.V. was back on.  J grabbed the remote.  “And stay off!”           

Two minutes later, another click.  “Are you kidding me?!”  When he could not find the plug through his sleep-fogged eyes, I called the front desk.             

“Um, I think we offended your T.V.  Maybe it’s because we didn’t watch it last night.”  Two people came up, and the switch to turn off the power socket was located.  We figured we could address the root problem at a more civilized hour.           

The next day, slightly grumpy, we woke up and proceeded with our plan to relax in the room all day.  I read blogs, J read the paper, and we ordered room service.  Every now and then, we heard a click, and one of us would reach for the remote, hoping to convince the television we just weren’t in the mood.