We are now 13 days away from the 2012 Presidential election, Obama vs Romney, but you would have to be living under a rock or on Jupiter to be blissfully ignorant of that fact, as well as all the passionate opinions circulating as to who will be the best leader for our hot mess of a country. I digress....this post has nothing to do with that, other than the fact that I had a close encounter with camp Romney and here is the story:
A couple of months ago, my mother-in-law suggested that we take a trip with the kids, meaning my two and my nephew John Gavin, to the zoo and a few other fun destinations. We discussed going to Atlanta, but soon decided Birmingham would be the better choice being that it was closer and that meant less car time with the youngsters. We packed our bags and set sail to the zoo, having secured our hotel reservations the night before via Priceline, you know, the William Shatner endorsed bargain site for those wishing to find comfort away from home. After a fun day of animal viewing and many doses of hand sanitizer, we loaded the weary tikes into the SUV and began our trek to the hotel. Before arriving, we decided to hit up Chic-fil-a for the kids, because we were all too tired to go to a restaurant at this point. I took the kids to the lobby of the nice establishment where we were to check in and my mother in law went to the desk to check in. We tucked into our bags of Chic-fil-a, about the time many a business person were strolling into the lobby for happy-hour wings and cheese sticks. Meanwhile, my mother-in-law was still at the desk and things were getting somewhat heated. There was a mix-up with Priceline and our hotel reservations were not for that day, but for the next week. Instead of correcting the problem in house, the hotel concierge said we would need to call Priceline. And so it went....while my MIL was on the phone sorting this out, the natives were getting restless. Suddenly everyone had to go potty and the youngest of the 3 decided it was more convenient to go #2 right there in his pants in the lobby. He at least had the courtesy to squat under the table while doing so, much to the chagrin of the white collared patrons nearby. Time drug on. And on. And on....with no changing table in sight, I resorted to the hallway, a low traffic area just around the corner from the elevators, but directly in sight of a security camera. Hey, don't judge.....the poop had to go! Clean children in tow, we headed to the parking lot, as my father-in-law had secured a hotel for us somewhere else. The "oh so helpful" concierge made her way out to the dumpster we were standing by about that time and as luck would have it, she threw a plastic juice bottle into the dumpster and it exploded on contact. Pretty sure she thought my MIL had fired off a round at her after their interaction at the front desk!
So, with new reservations, we set off to a really posh new resort, one that we would not have other wise stayed, but thanks to William Shatner and the gang, we were able to procure a last minute reservation for pennies on the dollar. Then things got weird. Upon arrival, we noticed at least four police cars out front and several uniformed men apparently being debriefed on a situation. About that time a man in a kilt came walking up playing "Amazing Grace" on his bagpipes. Those two facts were unrelated, but interesting nonetheless. Cohen and I went inside, while my mother-in-law went to park the car and meet her sister and nieces in the parking lot. As we sat in the lobby, delirium was setting in with my 2 year old and he wanted to run willy-nilly around the lobby. Did I mention he was barefoot and had a bit of chocolate smeared on his face? Yes, we were like Green Acres or Honey Boo Boo in this 5 star establishment. About that time, I realized we were being observed by a suited gentleman with a wired earpiece. He was standing formally with arms crossed and a small insignia was pined to his lapel. Having worked in the airline industry, I recognized him as secret service. What? About that time a few black SUVs arrived on the scene and more secret service began to deposit themselves around the lobby. The staff couldn't tell us who, but it was a "person of interest". As the rest of our group arrived in the lobby and we made our way to the elevators, we were discreetly followed by one of the "suits" and then he turned and went on his way. We got our swimsuits on and went to the pool. It was very cool with rock formations and was salt water. All the while, we could see the "suits" posted above us on the deck and right inside the doors. Needless to say, we felt very safe. Now, for those of you that don't know, ingesting large amounts of salt water can lead to some major colon cleansing. Most of us don't do that, but when you are two, you do a lot of things normal people don't think to do. And so it began.....I decided to take Cohen inside so we could go ahead and shower before the others came up, and imagine my surprise when I took his diaper off in the bathroom! WOAH! It was everywhere...and you must remember we were in the type of establishment that has white robes in your room, marble floors, and only glass containers. None of this conducive to clean up doody-duty! I showered him down and did the best I could. Bedtime was here and we all tried to get some sleep. Little man woke up in the middle of the night screaming loud enough to wake everyone on the floors around us, and another dirty diaper occurred! I got him cleaned up before security was called on us and we all went back to bed. Next, my nephew had to go potty, so he got up and went, but instead of coming back to bed we saw light streaming in and a door shut. About that time we realized he was in the hall! My MIL grabbed him and we tried once more to sleep. Morning came and the diaper debacle had turned into a fierce rash. I went downstairs with little man only to find that the gift shop with its Starbucks and pricey body lotions did not sell Desitin or the like. I went to the front desk, where something was a-brewing. Suits everywhere were in a formation of sorts, seemingly creating a pathway to a non-descript black SUV backed intrusively close to the front door. I hear "are we ready?" and "In position" being communicated over the headpieces, and as I approached the front desk to ask about diaper ointment, the wailing commenced from my dear toddler. I mean wailing of Banshee proportions. Luckily, God placed a sweet lady who was also a mother of a toddler at the front desk at that time. She checked for anything that would help, all the while wavering between looks of sympathy and horrified glances at the lobby. You see, we had learned that Mitt Romney was staying in the resort we were in, thus the abundance of secret service and security personnel. Just as he was preparing to regally stride through the lobby of this fine establishment, I was parading my poor little poopy-pants to the desk, front and center of all the action. Dear sweet front desk lady, I am forever in debt. She went to he purse and extracted a small container of Vaseline and told me to keep it. I promptly grabbed my precious, stinky, wailing offspring and fled to the elevators to take him to our room. I did not get to see the presidential hopeful as he made his way past us, but I feel sure he could hear us, along with everyone else that was within a 1/2 mile radius. At least no one wrestled me to the ground, falsely thinking that I was a protester or political activist. As the caravan of police escorts and tinted window SUVs made their way out of the parking lot, the scene was once again quiet. Never a dull moment....
