Dear hotel room bed with fluffy pillows:
Let's not waste time on pleasantries. I wanna get with you. So bad. So very bad. I'm really desperate. I want to try every position: fetal, spread eagle, face down--all night long. You can be on the top; you can be on the bottom. It doesn't matter as long as we are alone.
Blissfully alone.
But when? When can we be alone? I keep calling, but you're never home. What am I gonna do. Tonight, tonight, tonight - oh. I'm gonna make it right...
Wait, how the hell did this letter turn into a Genesis song? Oh, right, I've been up since 4:30 a.m. feeding my damn kid. I'm delirious. See? Do you see how badly I need you and your expansive white mountains of uninterrupted REM ecstasy?
You could make me whole again.
Call me. Now.
Affectionately, longingly and horizontally yours, Mrs. Mullet
17 comments:
And you're telling me you wouldn't then leave the bed for a long hot shower.
slut
LMAO! Is that a Marriott or Crown Plaza bed? If so, I can relate. Those beds have taken me to a new level many nights.
Well said! And you couldn't have chosen a better picture. Looks like heaven!
I dont even have a baby and I would give anything for a hotel room (by myself).
Hands off! He's mine.
Me too!!
I buy pillows and they NEVER look as good as hotel pillows. It doesn't matter how much I spend.
Sigh.
Good luck getting sleep.
I don't know if I'd leave anyone for that. I'll have to sleep on it.
Don't torture yourself...those pillows are infested with bedbugs and would leave you with a raging case of the scabies after a few hours of shut-eye on their bountiful softness.
Hell, that was my best stab at supportive.
Maybe those pillows are stuffed with clouds and sunshine but it would all come crashing down when those housekeeping bitches come tap-tap-tapping on your door and destroy your glorious sleep.
You can make it through the sleeplessness....have you ever considered heroin?! I think that can knock you out after a bit.
In a show of exhausted solidarity, I was awake all night with my puking 4-year-old while I suffered through the same stomach bug on Wednesday night and woke up to a cheery 9-month-old after a staggering 2 hours of sleep at 5AM. You have some company in the land of sleepless.
I have one word for you honey - Nyquil. It makes any bed feel like a night at The Plaza.
You forgot,
"You complete me."
Every good post deserves a line from Jerry McGuire.
Don't do it, that hotel room is a two-timer.
I'm going to share a dirty little secret my baby doctor shared with me. Have a giant glass of wine before the last feeding, Sheldon slept through the night at 10 days old, just saying.
Didn't sleep Friday night because Old Dog was at the Sleep Clinic for a sleep study (meaning NEITHER of us slept well) and then last night 6-year-old Kylie finally went down at midnight, only to reawaken at 4 a.m. with "growing pains" that wouldn't respond to any of my old wives' remedies.
And she's not even my kid.
Hang in there! Better days are coming.
Bed's are direct from heaven. The more pillows, the better.
However, the germaphobe in me wants to scream at the thought of sharing pillows with god-knows-who and their god-knows-what personal habits.
Ooo, sorry, rained on the parade a little, didn't I?
When you're done with it, I want a turn.
Love, love your humor!
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