Not really a vacation, but we went to spend Christmas with the in-laws. That’s all.
Okay, there’s more: it was in California and Christmas time is the rainy season. It rained all day every day, except for the day my husband and daughter went out for food poisoning. (NB: Never use hotel ice bucket.)
Then, my SIL got furious at us for attending church services on Christmas eve (though we’d cleared this in advance) and being 15 minutes late for the dinner that she had moved up an hour on a whim.
And I got stuck in a hotel elevator for 90 minutes at 6 in the morning on a Sunday, so the elevator company wasn’t available to let me out. They played the worst holiday music ever in that elevator. Now I know every single bad song from 2006. I will sing them if you’d like. I wisely did not drink the coffee I’d picked up in the lobby. When they finally let me out, my mother in law screamed at the desk to make it right. She was unaffected by my ordeal, but enjoyed making a scene. I will never stay at the Sofitel in San Francisco again. They probably have my mother-in-law’s picture on the wall in the office, and if they associate me with her, will inject my mattress with bedbugs.