Destination Unknown

“You need something to look forward to.”

He’s right. I do need something to look forward to. That is why hubby is taking me away on an overnight trip to a mystery location, a la post-rhinoplasty diva, for some “us” time. We are going in March.

Like the post-rhinoplasty diva, I am hoping my time away includes luxurious sheets, room service, and a nice view. Unlike the diva, I won’t have 36 feet of gauze-packing jammed up my nose and paparazzi camped outside my window.

But what if hubby sprung for the “Feel Like A Diva” getaway package? Upon arrival, you are showered with roses, gift certificates to the spa, and enough bum-kissing that you feel slightly damp back there. Then you are ushered into a back room (the door says, but fibs, “VIP Lounge”) where someone grabs you from behind and shoves 36 feet of gauze-packing up your nose. Then, dazed, delirious, and weepy you stagger back into the lobby only to be confronted by several dozen flashing strobe lights and people shouting your name and asking “Is it true you broke up Brad and Jen?” and “Is that Armani?”

When you tell them, “no, I got my t-shirt at Target,” they gasp. When you add “on 50% clearance and from the men’s department,” you make international headlines. The editor of Vogue resigns in disgust.

I hope hubby doesn’t arrange something like this…I want to eat a gigantic practically-mooing medium rare aged steak, a baked potato swimming in butter, and maybe some chocolate cake and wine. The diva would be stuck with one fried egg and a glass of Metamucil she has to stir herself with a celery stick.

I want to sleep in. The diva can sleep in every day—I have diapers to change, a minivan to drive this way and that way and this way and that way, and whites to brighten.

I love my kids. I love my “job” as their mother. But it is time to get away, to have something to look forward to beside the preschool’s Spaghetti Dinner and Silent Auction. For just a day and a night, I will get to step out of the ordinary. I can’t wait to see what hubby has up his sleeve. We have never been away from the kids, overnight, when I haven’t been in a hospital bed cursing the lying Lamaze lady and her laughable coping mechanisms.

I don’t know where we are going. But I already feel like I am there. It is good to have something to look forward to.