That one time I tripped an Argentinian baby.

This blog post has nothing to do with the theme of my blog, but I hope it makes you laugh.  It made me laugh.  Holy shit, did I laugh.

WELL.  There I was at work, being all front desk-y and whatnot at the Mountain Road Resort in Stowe.  It was a bit of a slow night, so I was in the middle of the Gossip Girl season 1 finale (I know, the trashiest of trashy shows, sorrynotsorry) when a man walked in looking for a last-minute place to stay for the night with his wife and 2 children.  I gave them a room and the keys and one of those infant playpens for their toddler.   

Here's the room they ended up staying in.
Pretty swanky, eh?

Next thing I know, the guy is back and said they were having trouble getting the room door open, which isn't uncommon.  Some of those locks are finicky, lemme tell ya!  Since it was pouring rain and their room was in the far building, he offered me a ride and I gladly obliged... until I saw the car.  It was a tiny Honda Accord JAMMED to the roof with road-trippy things and the front seat also had the folded-up playpen.  His 2 children were also in the car and they were both sobbing.

I somehow squeezed a butt cheek onto the passenger's seat next to the playpen and the guy HANDED ME his wailing baby and then started speaking to him in Spanish.  He calmly explained that they were Argentinian and were bringing their children up to be bilingual.  And then they were all screaming in foreign languages and I felt a liiiiiittle out of place.  I was just like, petting the baby and cooing all the Spanish words I knew at him (agua, banyo, senorita... that's about it) and he pretty much calmed down immediately.  At the same time, I was small-talking with the parents and willing my butt to stay balanced on the stack of travel books I was perched on.  That 30 second car ride felt like 3 hours.

When we finally made it, and at the sight of the indoor pool, the older child finally stopped sobbing.  Miracle of miracles.  I finagled the key to get the door open and held it open for them.  The baby immediately toddled through the doorway, tripped over my extended foot, and face-planted onto the rug.  The wailing started, my face turned redder than a lobster on Sunday, the Spanish started up again, and I felt terrible.  


Overall though, it was just hilarious.  I felt horrible for tripping their baby, even if it was an accident, but at the same time I almost couldn't help but laugh.  The situation was just so ridiculous.

Welcome to my life, everyone.  It's always an interesting time at work.  Maybe I'll post a few more hilarious hotel stories soon.  They're actually just as funny in print as they are in my head.  Weird.