My batteries need charging – like my cell phone, I’ve only got a millimetre of battery-bar left and it’s flashing red.
Perhaps its cabin fever, or maybe I need to escape the cold, or I need airing like an old carpet, or - whatever. I need a break.
I remember a time, pre-kids, when every Friday night, we’d fly out of the city, leaving straight from work, heading for our camp site. The only thing we needed to pick up for a weekend away was cold beer, a bag of ice, and possibly some fireworks.
To clarify, I’m not looking for a camping weekend - I’m in need of pampering a la spa treatments, romantic dinners, and shopping and less Kumbaya campfire sing-alongs, 'smores, and tenting. (It’s January in
after all.) Manitoba
What I would love is a weekend alone with Drew; tanning on the beach, sipping Mai Tais from coconuts, and feeding each other fresh pineapple. Sigh.
This afternoon, I Googled Winnipeg and direct flights to
Google icon laughed out loud. It chortled. Slightly spooky, but I got the hint. An exotic weekend in Polynesian Paradise is not on the near horizon for The Carmichaels. Honolulu. The
Not one to be easily discouraged, I widdled down our options to two front-runners.
Fargo or Brandon.
Dream small and you won’t be disappointed, I always say.
I’m surprising Drew with
because if we have to use our passports, that counts as international travel, right? Fargo,
So we're booked in for two nights, possibly three at the Holiday Inn Express, situated in the Target parking lot.
Aah, can you sense it? Romance is in the air.
And won't Drew look cute from his perch in the crow's nest in the pool's pirate ship.
I wonder if I have time to pick him up an eye patch before we head south.