Like rockstars we barely used the hotel room here in Portland. We were out at our friends’ for dinner in SE (thank you so, so much Beth, Tyler, and Nate!) and got in well past 11 PM while Portland was still partying on (the night owl in me loves city life). Ralph and Nels ran out for wine and bread and olives; Phoenix and I stayed in and watched some baffling television show centering around a hillbilly dressed in rocker-drag who would run into houses and (more or less) humanely wrestle out squirrels or pythons or whatever. I KNOW. Television. It’s f*cking insane!
I’m hung over this morning but pulling the curtains back from our tenth-story room at the Hilton and Portland seems sweet and mild and sleepy; it’s also lovely out. We’ve got to get the kids up early and get on the road – so no swimming in the hotel pool for us, sadly. It’s a short stay but the children have loved every minute:[flickr video=4738387061]
As I predicted, the kids are enamored of hotel life; touring the facilities and serving as elevator operators for other guests – then darting about the room displaying the amenities: an iron and ironing board! Little tiny soaps! A television set and remote! “Would you like me to brew you some coffee?” Phoenix asks last night, her hand on the mini-pot and her head cocked.
Now I touch my daughter, lying in the bed still slumbering. In her sleep she says, “Which one is the best? All of them.” Then she opens her eyes and smiles right into mine and whispers, “Thank you.”
On the road again.