Jay has a work-related convention that's being held at a Disney hotel. We're dropping WCK off at Grandma and Grandpa's, and I'm going to join him in Orlando. While Jay's at his meetings all day, I'm going to sit by the pool. Then we'll stay on for a couple of days after the convention to go to the theme parks.
We've justified this because 1) all of Jay's expenses during the convention are being paid for by his company, 2) this July is our 10-year wedding anniversary and we spent our honeymoon at Disney World, and 3) Grandma's house is probably even more exciting than Disney World, as far as WCK is concerned. The last time my parents were here, I went to take a shower while they all played in WCK's bedroom. When I went to join the family after my shower, WCK pushed me out the door. "No, Mommy!" she said. "Go downstairs!"
"Enjoy surfing the Internet," said my mom cheerfully, as the bedroom door slammed loudly behind me.
You see where I stand in the whole Grandma/Grandpa hierarchy.
Still, I can't help but feel that this makes me one bad mother, and not in the way that Shaft was one bad mother.
Then I look outside at the snow, and I remember that we are going to be staying here:
At least I will be a warm bad mother.
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