Fuddy Duddy

Travelling with Lucas is a whole new experience. The thing that became most evident to me on this trip is that I have become a fuddy duddy.

Earlier in the week, the Tennessee High School Band Education Association was holding their state championship at the convention centre attached to the hotel. Imagine hundreds of teenagers descending on the hotel, running around the halls, blocking sidewalks and generally up to no good. First, where were the chaperones? I remember on my high school trips, we would all be on the same floor and our teachers would walk the halls. Second, because Nashville has a juvenile curfew (excellent), the teenagers had nothing to do but loiter in the hallways. Sorry 16 year old girl, your boyfriend that you are saying 'I love you' to while chatting on your cell in the hallway really doesn't love you. He's just saying that to get to second base (or more).

I called security since it was past 10 pm and they didn't show signs of calming down. Security came upstairs and the fun stopped. Fuddy duddy. Buzzkill. Call it what you want but I have an early wake-up call and need my sleep.

Then last night, there was a rowdy bunch in the room joined to ours. Adjoining doors are not great sound barriers. It started in the afternoon and we had reprieves every time they went out. After we had put Lucas down at 7:30, they started again, then finally went out to the bars. Fast forward to 3 am when they returned and we were woken by their conversations (that we could hear word for word y'all).

After 30 minutes or so and two calls to the front desk, security finally emerged to tell them to shut up and back to sleep we went. Fuddy Duddy. Buzzkill. Killjoy. I DON'T CARE. If you wake me or my boy, you face my wrath.

Lucas woke up at 6 am and has been loudly laughing, chatting and whining all morning. Do we feel bad? Nope.

Karma.