Caught up in work stuff and being totally snowed under, I’ve left the arrangements for our impending trip West for Grumpy Pants to deal with. Besides, it is his family organising it all, so I’m happy for him to discuss, negotiate and yell.
It hurts my head. And I’m far too organised and in need of information. Not just any information, but information that is not ambiguous. More details and that sort of thing. Before swithching off for the night, I do a final email check, and there is one from a brother-in-law. Information pertaining to our holiday stay in the school holidays. I take a quick glance before moving it to Grumpy’s file to deal with.
Information about the accommodation refers to a “farm stay”. Ah, perfect. My city slicker kids will get to experience outdoorsy life, possibly touch a real live animal and get their hands dirty. Meanwhile, I’m envisaging ‘country’ style bedrooms, rolling hills I can view whilst sitting on plush couches in the communal area. Bliss.
I read further down of this extremely long, ambiguous email. Accommodation is “backpacker accommodation with 20 rooms each with bunk beds to sleep two adults”. This could mean anything. And where will the kids sleep if the rooms are for adults. He hasn’t mentioned kids? I have horrible thoughts that each room as a bunk bed, ie two beds. But can’t be. They know the kids are coming. And the kids are little. I’m sure they’ll have kept this in mind.
Actually, I really doubt they have considered our situation. I transfer the email to the relevant file, switch off and go to bed, thinking of plush couches, thick, comfy doonas and good coffee …