But Mom, I'm not saying I hate our house. .

I was sitting at the computer in the study the other day, and Rachel came in to have the following discussion with me:

Rachel: I wish we lived in a hotel.

Me: You do? What would you like about living in a hotel?

Rachel: You know. . . . like, it's super-warm and all that stuff.

Me: Well, our house actually seems pretty warm to me right now. (This is true. For example, last night I went upstairs to check on the kids around 11:00 pm, and the A/C was struggling to get it down to 82 degrees up there. That is plenty warm for me.)

Rachel (changing the subject slightly): Yeah. . but a hotel has more beds in each room. Ya get it? I'm not, like, saying I hate our house. I'm not like saying that!! I just wish I lived in a hotel. That's all.

During this whole conversation she was very worried that I was going to be offended by the fact that she'd prefer to live in a hotel, so she made sure to keep clarifying how much she does NOT hate our house.

Me: What made you even think of this?

Rachel: I don't know. I was just thinking, and. . . you know . . . hotels are just so neat. They even have waterfalls (our hotel in Corpus Christi had a little waterfall in the lobby). And you can eat there.

Me: Don't we eat here?

Rachel (rolling her eyes): Except you can get yummy food there.

Me: (silence)

Rachel (trying to get back on my good side): But I'm not saying I hate this house. Okay?

Me: Is there anything that is better about this house than a hotel?

Rachel: Oh, yeah, sure . . . . Umm. . . .Oh, yeah - like the study. I guess hotels don't have studies.

She then left the room to go draw a picture of a hotel, but came back in after about 5 minutes to finish up the conversation.

Rachel: I guess the best thing is for me to live in this house AND a hotel - like maybe there should be a hotel hooked on. Then you could just go straight in whenever you want. You would have to help us open the door, though.


The thing is, despite the fact that I was laughing the whole time she was telling me all this, I actually do "get it", as Rachel would say. I can remember hotels seeming so magical as a kid. We didn't stay in hotels often, but I remember every spring our family would drive down to St. George and stay at the Holiday Inn while my Dad attended a city attorney conference there. We loved everything about that place - there was just something about the way it smelled and how the carpet felt on our bare feet as we ran up and down the halls playing tag and the indoor/outdoor pool with the little flaps to swim back and forth under and how the lights looked in the pool at night when our parents let us go swimming after bedtime. I'm pretty sure I wished I lived there. And it didn't even have continental breakfasts - I don't think I knew about those yet. That would have sealed the deal for sure.

I guess I still like hotels. It's still fun for me. I love getting the room all organized and finding a place for everything and then getting all set up and not having any responsibilities and taking the kids down to the pool. But then it does always feel good to get back home, so maybe Rachel's idea is best - to have some sort of house/hotel combo. I'm picturing our current house, but with room service and an indoor/outdoor pool. And continental breakfast.