Lesser of two holiday evils: Bed bugs or mom's house?
Well folks, we're joining half of Chicago and hitting the road tomorrow, destination: Turkeytown. With less than 24 hours to go before we gas up ole Scott and sing our lungs out down I94, I have yet to make sleeping arrangements for us when we get there. Let's explore the options.
1. Stay at mom and dad's house. Here we get to rest our bones on a rock hard 30-year-old mattress in the creepy surroundings of my old bedroom. It hasn't changed much since I was a kid, except for the addition of mom's massive coat and junk collection.
The room is like an archeological dig - the base layer is a coat of mauve paint and an '88 Bush inauguration pennant (I guess I was a Republican in second grade. UNCOMFORTABLE!) Making our way toward the surface we will find my cheerleading memorabilia from the 90's which seems disturbing when juxtaposed with the presence of my frisky husband. Finally, the "crust" if you will - a bunch of cat hair.
Add these amazing comforts to the inescapability of my mom's moods and lack of boozing my pregnant condition provides me and you see why the Drury Inn down the street is looking pretty keen.
2. Stay in the Drury Inn down the street that is looking pretty keen. Ah. Free nachos, complimentary cocktail hour, 500 fluffy pillows, privacy (sort of, we do have a toddler), a pool, freedom and . . . possibly little bloodsucking critters living in the mattresses.
This bed bug epidemic really has me spooked! I mean, what if we get them? Is it a worse fate than my face being clawed off in my sleep by mom's indignant cats? And what if my old room isn't even available because my grandma is staying over - are bed bugs worse than having to sleep on a musty futon in a non-climate-controlled enclosed porch that said cats are rumored to fancy?
Maybe the bed bugs ain't so bad.