Last week I went over the river and through the woods to grandma’s house in New Hampshire, just like Red did in my book Tasting Red!
Except where Red’s grandma is a witchy Martha Stewart powerhouse with flawless luxury taste, this grandma’s house was ratchet as hell.
Okay, so it wasn’t my grandma’s house, it was a super weird Airbnb I stayed at with l’husbun while he worked in New England.
And , it was unpleasant.
While I gave a nod to the plastic horses on the fireplace mantle, and squinted suspiciously at the 20 loose playing cards sitting on the coffee table (talk about being a few cards shy of a deck)
It smelled super musty, lacked a lot of basic amenities, and we had a BUNCH of uninvited roommates.
And by that, my friend, I mean a shit load of ants.
Ants on the clean towels, on the floor and walls of every single room, on the boob of my pajama top when I settled into bed (that happened a couple times)
Not. A. Fan.
While it was actually owned by a property management company, (not a grandma at all) l’husbun and I leaned into the joke that we were staying at our least favorite grandma’s home.
Things l’husbun and I said to each other at the beginning at the trip (and no, i’m not going to tell you who said what):
Don’t let grandma see my fancy knickers, she’ll think I’m a slut.
If you don’t make the bed with me, grandma won’t let you have any of the cookies. I’ll get them all.
*returning to the house* do you think grandma is going to be upset we stayed out so late?
And the toward the end the trip the language had gotten more intense:
Grandma doesn’t have an iron/ironing board in this whole joint? What the heck granny?! (this joint being a 4 bedroom house)
Grandma doesn’t have a hair dryer? Does she think it’s funny I’m shivering like a chihuahua withdrawing from a crack addition from being cold all day?
WHAT EVER LOVING SELF RESPECTING GRANDMA DOESN’T HAVE A WATER KETTLE IN THE HOUSE??!?!?!
Soooooo basically we should have got a hotel.
But that’s okay. You know what comforted me when my accommodations couldn’t? Allllllll the amazing messages and reviews that have come in from readers who loved Tasting Red!!!
I rubbed my little hands by their loving warmth.
Thank god I’m back home in Colorado with my hair dryer, in my bug free home!
My one regret is the Big Bad Wolf isn’t real and able to go blow that house down.
And rest assured, when we travel over the river and through the woods back to New Hampshire for l’husbun’s work again, we’ll find other accomodations.