Hotel service just isn't what it used to be.
Lucie was napping on my chest, I was enjoying some rare quiet time by the pool, and Grayson was doing rotations on the waterslide. At least I thought he was.
My black sunglasses and wide-brimmed straw hat suddenly weren't disguise enough when I saw the bar staff being led towards me by my son. "Uh, hi," the barman stammered over Grayson's declarations of "Tell him, Mom!"
"Um, your son says he wants to open up a room charge for a pina colada." "Grayson!" I say, equally horrified and impressed.
"You don't even have to pay for it," Grayson assured me. "You just have to sign the paper. Look! I already got this beach ball from the gift shop!" I glance behind me at the pool-side cabana, the happy vendor waving back at his young customer.
"Sorry," I explained to the bartender. "What he would like is a pineapple smoothie. You can charge it to the room, and we'll keep him out of the bar for a few more years."
"Oh, that's okay," he replied. "He is a very well-spoken young man. He's been entertaining us all with descriptions of the merits of the different pools he's been visiting recently. Sounds like you all are on an interesting road trip!" Visions of Grayson saddled up to the bar regaling customers with tales of bikinis and polygamists and mommy and daddy's naps flashed through my mind in an instant. "You know," I said, "I think we'll have that pina colada afterall."
Lucie was napping on my chest, I was enjoying some rare quiet time by the pool, and Grayson was doing rotations on the waterslide. At least I thought he was.
My black sunglasses and wide-brimmed straw hat suddenly weren't disguise enough when I saw the bar staff being led towards me by my son. "Uh, hi," the barman stammered over Grayson's declarations of "Tell him, Mom!"
"Um, your son says he wants to open up a room charge for a pina colada." "Grayson!" I say, equally horrified and impressed.
"You don't even have to pay for it," Grayson assured me. "You just have to sign the paper. Look! I already got this beach ball from the gift shop!" I glance behind me at the pool-side cabana, the happy vendor waving back at his young customer.
"Sorry," I explained to the bartender. "What he would like is a pineapple smoothie. You can charge it to the room, and we'll keep him out of the bar for a few more years."
"Oh, that's okay," he replied. "He is a very well-spoken young man. He's been entertaining us all with descriptions of the merits of the different pools he's been visiting recently. Sounds like you all are on an interesting road trip!" Visions of Grayson saddled up to the bar regaling customers with tales of bikinis and polygamists and mommy and daddy's naps flashed through my mind in an instant. "You know," I said, "I think we'll have that pina colada afterall."
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