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| And mom's still sick... |
To say I awoke to a new day would be nothing but a lie. The day hadn't ended. Whatever had been infecting my mom's head decided to move south and take up residence in her chest. Her labored breathing became a rheumy snore. I know, I know... it wasn't her fault...
(Now let's be honest. My mom is unreasonable on a good day, but when she's sick... she's IMPOSSIBLE. Men are supposed to be babies when they're sick, but she can give the biggest whiny annoying brat a run for the money! And don't think I don't know what it's like to be sick while travelling. Oh I know. Boy do I know. I even caught the Avian Flu in China. Fo reelz yo! What do you do in a case like that? You suck it up and take medicine that's what!!!!)
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| For realz, yo! |
Throughout the night, I was tapped and given a command like 'drink' and 'put the blanket on me', and of course, 'jam the chair under the door knob (!!!!!!!!)' so sleep wasn't possible anyway. (Days later she would insist on not remembering this claiming instead that it was do to 'fevered dreams'. Pardon my skepticism...)
If I were a math person, I could have figured out the formula for pushing someone out of an open window.
| I honestly considered this option... However... There was a ledge. |
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| The window was small with a ledge under it. |
As is was, I was having fantasies about holding her mouth open, shoving in meds and stroking her throat dog-like.
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| Oh to have the gumption to do this... |
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| BOOTS!!!!!!!!! |
I paid another visit to Pret and purchased tea and an almond croissant. Who could turn their nose up at an almond croissant? I'll tell ya who!
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| mmmmm |
"What time is it?"
"After 10. Here, I got you some Diet Coke, LemSip capsules so you don't have to drink it, and an almond croissant to eat."
"I don't like croissants."
"Since when?" I'm pretty sure my eyes turned red at this point... "Eat half!"
Oddly, and completely out of character, she ate half. And took the medicine. Then crawled back under the covers with instructions for me to get her up at 4:00 pm so she can get ready for the evening's festivities.
I sighed, put the headphones back on and laid down to read.
About 30,000 hours later, I pulled 'sicky' out of bed and got her into the shower. She comes out and crawls back under the covers. I get ready and sit there. And sit there. And sit there.
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| That's me... |
Six pm rolls around and I rouse the lump. She eats the other half of croissant and takes more meds. THANK GOD! She gets dressed.
We head down to the lobby.
One of the reasons we chose to stay at this hotel was because twice a month they host Murder Mystery Dinners. Fun right?
Unfortunately, this show wasn't Sherlock Holmes related, but instead a spoof on The Great Gatsby. Again, those who know me may find this amusing, but I digress.
Before the show, I treat mom to a Malibu and pineapple whilst I suck down the house chocolate martini. I admit, I'm a sucker for martinis of the chocolate variety and am always trying to find the best one.
We're called to dinner and presented with a red beverage. I have no idea what it is, but it's tasty. By this point the cold meds and alcohol are starting to mingle in mom's tummy and she's feeling no pain.
The table we occupied was shared by 3 other couples. Two were mother/daughter couples and one was a couple of Swiss girls who took a holiday together. I sat next to them. Mom sat next to one of the daughters of the other couples and had a wonderful chat about nothing. Enter wine.
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| The wine we were served. I think we all chose white. |
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| Tomato and Rocket Salad with Seared Goat Cheese |
The show started. How fun! Bad American accents, silly stuff and a murder mystery, what could be better? The first act took place before the first course.
The first course: Tomato and Rocket Salad with Goat Cheese. I have to say I enjoyed this dish. And not only because mom flopped the goat cheese medallion to the side and picked at the tomatoes. It was really good. The slightly biting savoriness of the goat cheese was toned down with the olive oil and rocket. The tomatoes made you feel like you were eating pizza.
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| Tipsy Brit in the foreground, Actress in the show behind. |
Act two commenced. The girl next to mom was getting tipsy. It was fun to watch in a weird way. Now here's the thing... why would someone who is obviously British want to talk American politics? I don't get it. I'm Southern girl by birth and we're beaten into submission to do anything to avoid talking politics. That's all fine and good, but why would you care if you're from a different country? I don't know anything about British politics. Besides some guy named Tony Blair and Meryl Streep. But whatever, you can't get politics out of my mom because she knows less than I.
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| Herb roasted chicken with potatoes and veggies. |
Main Course is served. Roasted chicken with a weird potato cake
thing and veggie ribbons. Not bad. I didn't eat the chicken skin, but the meat was juicy and had a nice flavor. The potato cake thingy was a sort of au gratin casserole minus the gratin. The veggies were more or less fresh too. More wine.
By this time, mom was chatting about touring in the US with the Tipsy Brit and I was focused on following the clues with the Swiss girl next to me. I think we were the only ones taking it seriously.
Act Two gave us more plot points and all that stuff. Then dessert.
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| mmmm chocolate... |
Chocolate mousse! You really, really, really have to try to screw this up. And they didn't. It was light and rich and crazy good. I wanted to eat all of mine and everyone else's too. You'll be happy to know that I restrained myself and concentrated on the mystery.
With the consensus of the others at the table, I wrote up who we chose as the murderer and turned it in. We won! Our table (table 5) won 2 bottles of bubbly.
One we gave to the hen party, since we were pretty much topped up by then, and the other was shared between me (sorta) mom and Tipsy Brit. I really couldn't drink any more by then having reached my limit of 3. I was also worried about a nasty hangover since I did mix maritnis and wine. Mom had no such worries. In fact, she was feeling so good that when dinner was over and the disco started, she got up and jukked around a little bit before we called it a night.
We had to walk around a little bit because I forgot how to get back to the room. We also had to stop at the front desk to ask for toilet paper. This was delivered later on a silver platter. Can't make that up.
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| Seriously! A bell hop arrived like this. |
I made the mistake of expressing my concern that She Who Must (aka Mothra, aka mother) would be hurting in the morning due to her dancing around on recovering (2) broken ankles and mixing meds and alcohol. She responded with tears and 'Why can't I have fun once in a while??????'
| What have I done? |
Thus endeth the second day.
