No Kids Allowed

Summer is fast approaching, and families all over the country are planning beach getaways with the kiddos. My advice: leave them at home.

A recent long weekend in Mexico was supposed to be a romantic getaway to recharge and reignite. My husband was as giddy as a kid on Christmas Eve.

At the last minute, without consulting my love machine, I invited our youngest and her friend and rationalized that it would be nice for “Our Precious” to get a break because, well, she has a job.

Don’t all 23 year olds with full-time employment of less than a year need an all-expense-paid trip, sipping margaritas at a 5-star resort?

I argued that at 23, our former tax deduction and her friend would find plenty to do and not bother or interrupt our love break. They would pose for social media selfies, lay out, and spend their time deep in girl gossip and the second season of Bridgerton. My frustrated but always patient hubby acquiesced.

How could I be so wrong?

At home, our sassy wage earner advocates for her independence like Che Guevara and guards her privacy like I guard my Chanel Sublimage moisturizer.

She rarely shares life’s details in the upper 48, but crossing the border sent her into sugary sweet family land where she was all smiles, laughter, and affection, sans the bad attitude.

Our sweet girl and her friend were everywhere we were. They were like an annoying pimple marring the face of our sexy getaway.

They wanted to eat together, tan with us, and talk! Their long-term and short-term goals were debated and set. Future weddings, vacations, pandemics, and the prospects of meeting Dak Prescott were hot topics.

By the second day, the only one with a bad attitude was my husband.

I was in mommy heaven, and he was in the romantic equivalent of Death Valley. Every attempted tryst was shocked into reality with a knock or text about how to get ice or where we were eating next.

By the last night, I was desperate to rescue my suppressed spouse’s happiness. So, I made my love a promise. The minute we land back in Texas, I will download an ocean sounds App. And, at home, in our empty nest, we will make our own waves. And just like that, his vacation was saved.

Share this article...
Email this to someone
Share on Facebook
Tweet about this on Twitter
Share on LinkedIn

Michele Valdez

Michele Valdez, a slightly compulsive, mildly angry feminist, has been an attorney, volunteer, and The Mad Housewife columnist. She has four demanding adult children and a patient husband.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.