Fancy Travels: Planning Ahead

“Why aren’t you helping me? Where is my travel cologne? Why does everybody hate me? No one cares about me!”

That was Mr. Fancy, Sunday night, trying to pack his suitcase while his driver sat outside, reading the paper. He’s the kind who really likes to plan ahead.

“Darling, I want to help you. I just didn’t hear you. I’m coming right now,” I soothed, leaving the Minis to their dinner.

Alas, I wasn’t any great help. How am I supposed to know where Nanny #2 thinks a good hiding place for his travel shaving kit and computer cables is? I’m truly fascinated to find out next time I see her. 

Back to the kitchen I trotted, after consoling H with the knowledge that anything he needs can be purchased and I will personally bring anything forgotten along with me. To hand over when we meet on the Continent. Because he’s not using that ticket after all.

Anyhoo.

Much to my delight, I discovered TC giving her sister a deep conditioning hair treatment. With Nutella. Only made worse by the fact that The Princess had fallen asleep during all the excitement, in her high chair, face smashed into goat cheese on toast. 

I was still scrubbing when H came flying into the kitchen.

“I only have to pack until Thursday, right? I mean, you’ll bring all my other stuff. I only need clothes for 3 days?” he asked with misguided optimism.

“Um, darling, we’re flying Cheap Ass Air. At your suggestion. You convinced me it would be the ‘better alternative.’ 20kg luggage limit. It's out of my hands," I shrugged, howling with laughter (internally). "Now, if we were flying Fancy Gold Card Airline, like I wanted, then I would be more than happy to schlep all your shit several hundred miles with me. In addition to the Minis, their crap, all our clothes and the 5 bags of M&Ms I plan on using as airplane diversionary tactic. As it is, however, I suggest you do a little thinking about whether you’d like to spend your days by the pool in a suit.”

He stared at me.

“Can you at least hand me those cufflinks?” he whinged. “Is that too much to ask?”

I felt bad.

We compromised.

I’m bringing his swimsuit.

Happy Vacation, here we come!!!



By the way, did you catch me back over at In The Powder Room this week?