Kid’s Club (3608-3618)

It’s the weekend already (that happened fast) and I’m feeling nostalgic about my vacation.

For one, I miss 24 hour free room service and minibar. WHAT?!

While I never actually used the room service or drank any of the sodas in the minibar, I felt kind of important and powerful, like I could pick up that phone and get something delivered to my room without thinking about cost because I’m that rich.

But I never felt like waiting three hours for a club sandwich so I just walked over to the buffet instead, which leads me to the second thing I miss …

The buffet. It was freaking rad. I had my sights set realistically low so imagine my surprise when I found that it wasn’t all fried foods and crusty hotel pans. I miss having so much fresh fruit and vegetable dishes to choose from, as well as enjoying huevos rancheros for breakfast every day with a heaping plate of papaya and mangoes on the side.

That buffet was full of fresh fish and salads in addition to entrees and chef stations where meals were cooked to order. I had to remind the boys (and myself) that it wasn’t going to be like this back home.

What I don’t miss about the buffet was the low station set out for the kids. I banned my kids from even looking at it. It was frequented by children being cared for by the Kid’s Club, which ran from 9am to 10pm by the same staff of women who worked six days a week. Although I only used it a couple times, I tipped the hell out of those ladies.

The food on that table was designed to get the kids to shut up and eat. Quesadillas, hot dogs, pizza, noodles, fruit salad, sugar cereals (Did you know they have chocolate Frosted Flakes with marshmallows? The hell?”) and for every meal – I’m not kidding – marshmallows and chocolate sauce. My kids gorged on that shit on the first time they hung out at the Kids’ Club. Scrotus said to me, “I think I’ll skip dessert tonight. Marshmallows and chocolate sauce for lunch was a bad idea.” I can’t tell if he was buttering me up.


Speaking of the Kids’ Club, I was sooo excited at the prospect of being able to drop the kids off, especially when there was no extra charge. It was like my eyes had big dollar signs in them.

The first night I was there I quizzed other families about it. They regaled me with stories about how their kids cried – CRIED – when it was time to go home. I was already planning my free days. The activities were cool, too. Rock climbing, air hockey tournaments, swimming, dinner on the beach with a movie …

… and the boys were like, “Meh.” It’s like they want to torture me. I took them to the really nice building to let them look around and asked hopefully, “So guys, you wanna check it out?”

Hell to the no, Mom.

I’ll admit it, I begged. I really wanted to do water aerobics, so they took pity on me and stayed. When I came back a few hours later I was hoping they would have changed their minds about the place and wail in protest when I said it was time to go.

Scrotus spied me first, vaulted over the counter and hit the buzzer to unlock the gate. It was like he had been planning a jailbreak.

All super cheerful I was like, “So. Did you have an amazing time? Do you want to stay a few more hours?”

¿Cómo se dice “shut down” en español.

All I could think was, Oh come on! Cry, you fuckers, CRY!

A little later on I learned a thing or two about the kid’s club. My boys are stuck between the three year-olds and the 10 year-olds. The minders have to entertain all of them so the lion’s share of the attention goes to keeping the little ones happy. I get it.

My guys are rather jaded (I wonder where could they have gotten that trait from) and the activities geared towards the little kids didn’t cut it. The 10 year-olds were psyched about the club because of the 1) marshmallow and chocolate buffet and 2) the three PS2 stations, and they hogged them. We don’t have a PS2 or a Wii or anything like that, so my guys ended up just watching other kids play. Thrilling.

The upshot is that I ended up parenting the whole time. You call that a vacation?

Time to cut the crap


I read them, They were good. DONATE.


Mesh laundry bad, we have dozens (and we need them) but I don’t like the metal mouth on it. DONATE.


WTF? Another Halloween candy pumpkin? Despite knowing that I won’t be able to find the two I’m saving when Halloween rolls around, I’m going to DONATE.


Sponge Bob sunglasses. TRASH.


Random handkerchief. TRASH.


Easter eggs coloring device. It’s actually pretty cool, but Easter just isn’t a big holiday around here. The boys don’t seem too psyched about coloring the eggs and I don’t see why I should take up basement space for something that is used 15 minutes a year. TRASH.


Trashed wallet. TRASH.


Cribbage board, red oak. It’s new. I don’t know anyone who plays cribbage. FREE/DONATE.




A piece from a Star Wars toy that is long gone. TRASH.

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