Hollywood, here we DON'T come

A few weeks before Valentine's Day, Rick casually mentioned that he has never stayed in Hollywood like I did for my bachelorette party (Roosevelt Hotel). So, when trying to think of a good V Day present for him, I used my good wife listening skills and booked us a room in a hip hotel right in the middle of fun, bustling Hollywood. Sure, we live 1/2 an hour away, but when you remove the kids to a grandparent's house and throw in steak dinners, sleeping in, buffet breakfasts and cozy bathrobes, you've got a romantic Valentine's Day weekend no matter where it is. Since we were in Fresno visiting friends last weekend during the actual chocolate and roses holiday, I booked the room for this weekend and made a cute card for Rick last weekend, explaining our plans.

Just as I was googling restaurants near the hotel during my last 1/2 hour at work this afternoon, I got the call.

From preschool.

Hi, your poor daughter is burning up. She's been asking for "huggsies" all day, doesn't want to be put down, and she has a fever.

I closed Google and drove to get her.

So, I will be at home with a warm, lethargic baby all weekend, snuggling on the couch, watching Caillou over and over, listening to the rain on the roof, and refilling sippy cups full of appie juice.

I'm ok with that. The hotel will still be there in a weekend or 2. And so will our excitement. And so will Grandma.