My favorite things about staying out of town in a hotel: light-blocking drapes, cool air conditioning, perfect mattress with tons of pillows, and no Shorties crawling in with me at midnight, 3:00 a.m., 6:00 a.m. Sleeping late may actually be my favorite activity. (Or inactivity, as the case may be.) Once we realize we are going out of town, I can't wait to see the sights, eat great food, laugh a lot, and then blissfully sleep late in the comfortable, cool, dark, quiet room.
Today, because we are Johnsons, we woke to the sounds of construction at 9:00 a.m. (And anyone who says 9:00 a.m. IS sleeping late--wrong. 9:00 a.m. is only sleeping late to amateurs, not connoisseurs of sleep. You expose your ignorance.) Evidently, The Peabody is remodeling and adding on all of these new, fabulous amenities (which also explains the amazing room rate we received). Good thing we were already awake when the drilling and sanding started right above us or I'd have had a complete come apart.
This is what is known as The Johnson Factor. It's like traveling with the Grizwold family on a continuum (although in our Grizwold experience, I play the role of Clark and Steve is Ellen--we even call our Yukon the Family Truckster). This sort of stuff only happens to us, or I should say that this stuff always happens to us. It's a given. I'm used to it after 16 years, and my children have never known anything but The Johnson Factor, so they don't even flinch when it happens. It's a testimony to endurance and patience and going with the flow. (God must be teaching us some really awesome lessons.)
And to top this off, based on the conversations I've already had, I'm pretty sure that I'm wearing an extra large version of my "Please Share the Completely Inappropriate Details of Your Personal Life with Me" sign in hot pink neon over my head this week. These two things combined, The Factor and My Sign, increase the drama exponentially. It really ought to be studied by a university.
We are about to go downstairs for brunch (another one of my favorite things ever--serve Eggs Benedict and I'm all yours.) If The Johnson Factor holds true, they will be out when we arrive. Then we are going to ride the trolley system to the shopping area (which will be broken down or will break down with us on it) and see what's happening until the preacher's conference starts this afternoon (where we won't be able to find any seats and when we do sit down, it will be next to someone who ate an entire raw onion for lunch and wants to discuss his prostate with me, and when I excuse myself to go use the restroom I will choose the stall with no toilet paper. You get the idea.)
Let The Johnson Show begin!
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