[twitter]It really was a great gesture from our management team. The annual office Christmas Party would be an overnight affair at a ski resort, and to help the families on staff, kids would be invited to attend their own Christmas party in another ballroom complete with babysitters.
Our boys were THRILLED. They were going to get to spend the night in a Ho-Towel. (I love the way young kids pronounce words. Forever a hotel will now be known as ho-towels in our family). The boys love their fancy hotel visits. It usually means a splash in a pool, getting to watch tv in bed, and all sorts of treats they don’t get at home. It didn’t matter they were getting a special Christmas party, the ho-towel visit is what brought the anticipation.
My wife and I were the first to arrive at the ballroom, and were shocked when we found out the party room wasn’t next door to the grown-up party, but instead down a hall, down a flight of stairs, and down another hall.
“I’m not going to the party,” my wife reacted.
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