all six of us went out of town yesterday to visit my husband’s grandparents which was quite a adventure. this was not the first time we have made the three hour journey to their small college town but it is always a bit harder in the winter where there is even less to do for kid entertainment. the grandparents-in-laws are great and i have come to think of them as my grandparents too (which i just realized as i typed it). the kids adore them and their ever present cookie stash and closet full of original fischer-price toys makes it easier to bring three four year old’s to their house. but, after a few hours, the kids get bored and start exploring or touching things they aren’t supposed to touch and keeping tantrums at bay gets difficult. luckily, we now stay at a hotel when we visit which was decided after a particularly harrowing weekend of sleeping on pull out couches and overly screamy preschoolers. when the inevitable kid boredom hits, we head over to the hotel and let the kids jump on the hotel beds and gorge on cartoons. it works. last night, after jumping, i gave the triplets a bath in a small bathroom whose door wouldn’t close because the toilet was in the way.

i felt a little bad for the hotel mattresses until this morning when, as i pulled the sheets back on the bed, i realized there was a substantial blood stain at the foot of one of the beds. i have watched so many episodes of CSI*  and Dexter that my first thoughts turned to murder but later accepted it was probably something much more pedestrian. it wasn’t enough blood for murder unless the killer moved the body right away- perhaps to wrap it in a shower curtain. the killer may have also knocked the toilet loose (maybe it was murder by toilet lid) which resulted in the management installing a toilet too big for the tiny bathroom hence the reason the door wouldn’t close. A-HA!  it was the hotel owner who did it! or maybe the maintenance man. i’d rather make up murder mysteries than think about my kids sleeping on a stranger’s blood stain or how it really got there. also, i don’t think i want to stay there anymore.

*because of crime dramas, i’m much more aware of hotel room comforters than I ever wanted to be. now, when walking into a hotel room with  shiny, dark paisley, poly-blend comforters, all i can think of is how it would glow under a black light. then a Who song starts playing and i whip off my sunglasses to sum up the situation with a terrible pun.

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