I wrote that fa la la la la shit before my entire house was bathed in a steady stream of puke.
I’m dying over here trying to deal with the horrific effects of children struck down with stomach flu while fighting it off myself.
Then I went through the entries on an old blog of mine that turned into the abandoned red headed step child and I found this account of how I managed to recover from this same situation a few years ago. Enjoy……..
I bet you didn’t know that it only takes one vomiting child to thwart even the most serious attempts at living like a rock star. Now take that and multiply it by three.
As you might imagine, a person needs some time to recuperate after an entire household is struck down by plague.
After merrily hosing down the walls of several common rooms, like the scullery maid I really am, with bleach tinged cleanser, I picked up the phone and made a reservation at Washington D.C.’s very own Topaz Hotel for my husband and I. Many times I had been tempted to do this after hearing rave reviews about the location, funky, spacious rooms and exquisite service, but something always seemed to get in the way. A basketball game, endless birthday parties, needy pets and offspring, etc. With fierce determination I asked for a one night stay and a hot rock massage for my overworked and under appreciated spouse.
Grandma flew in on her broomstick and had just enough time to toss off three housekeeping related insults before we bolted out the front and hailed the nearest cab.
First off, I’ve got to say how impressed I was with the hotel itself. It looks small from the outside but it boasts cavernous rooms and a fantastic bar/lounge area near it’s entrance. Every inquiry was met with a smile and genuine warmth and the bartenders kept me company like big brothers while my husband went upstairs at 6:30 for his massage appointment.
Speaking of the massage…….
Let me just start by saying this is provided by an outside service and a good one at that. My husband being a massage virgin was terrified at the prospect of a stranger rubbing him down with oil in a locked room. Baby. It turns out our masseuse was an enormous Russian fellow with an odd resemblance to John Wayne Gacey. His first words after “hello” were “I FORGET ROCKS” not “I forgot the rocks”, just a simple caveman like “I FORGET ROCKS”.
For one nanosecond I contemplated making a fuss and then had a vision of him snapping off my husbands twig like arms and brandishing them as weaponry against me leaving me concussed on the floor. Wait, where was I? Oh yes, he opted instead for the deep tissue massage which was in a word ..delightful.
We spent the rest of the evening drinking a strange blue mixed drink from the bar, both delicious and potent, and ate while watching March Madness on the bar TV.
Since we are from the area and we’ve frequented all the local DuPont Circle haunts, we stayed close to the hotel and went outside for a few quick walks to people watch and enjoy the Saturday evening. Those coming into D.C. from out of town could spend all evening out and about I’m sure.
The Topaz Hotel is a Kimpton Hotel (love them!) and is located at 1733 N Street, N.W. Washington, DC 20036.