A glass half fuller would say that we made it through a grueling day relatively unscathed, but I am disappointed that my careful planning…. okay obsessing did not prevent the oogie belly I have right now…. It happened like this…
The drive was long, but relatively uneventful. Movie GORP was a huge hit – 100% approval, which doesn’t really happen at our house, ever. The kids were strapped in and zombified until we took a break and made them go pee with us. The “what a nice job you’re doing” mini chocolate was dispensed at 3 and we arrived at our destination 10 minutes before my husband’s meeting was due to begin. It’s a good thing they’re nice in the South; we couldn’t even try to be impatient and DC Metro hustle-y. We just would have felt like jerks, so we rolled with it and everything turned out just fine… until dinner.
While my hubby had his meeting, we explored the very posh playground at the hotel, or I should say the kids did and I researched where to take them tomorrow while poor Daddy has to work. The kids started talking about bed at about 6 pm. What is it about car trips that makes us so dang tired? It’s not like we did ANYTHING but sit on our big behinds, but nevertheless they were pooped. The parents had hoped to venture beyond the castle walls into the land of spectacular veggie packed restaurants in this beautiful town, but timing did NOT work in our favor. My husband’s meeting ran long and the kids’ biological clocks ran short.
So the kids and I ended up at one of several hotel restaurants (the one you didn’t need a several days old reservation for) with the children practically eating their hair and nary a healthy food option in sight. I still had car packed food, and in retrospect I should have just been mean and done a repeat on lunch (as it would have ultimately been the kinder choice), but I didn’t. And so they ate chicken with some kind of breaded coating that the picky one had me remove for her in order to advance in the meal (no, I am not usually that accommodating). They had fruit (the only redeeming characteristic) and of course the meal came with home-made kettle chips (way to read the fine print, MOM), which were, predictably, quite popular. By the time Daddy’s meeting was over, the team had forfeited the game and was ready for the showers.
Mom and Dad’s dinner came up to join us. I will not go into the problems I ran into there. The restaurant is a fine establishment, although clearly not accustomed to accommodating my increasingly specific requirements. And so I’ve spent most of the evening on my cell phone (as the reported wi-fi access doesn’t work from our room, where we are trapped listening to my son snore) researching the variety of options that exist outside of the castle walls. I look forward to exploring this land where restaurateurs don’t see my particular brand of food snobbery as a difficulty but as an exciting avenue for culinary exploration. Hello Asheville, I will meet the real you in the morning! (And I promise I will restore my glass half full lenses after I get a little shut eye.)