An open apology to hotels all over the world

Dear Hotels All Over the World,

I apologize, on behalf of my daughter, for the havoc we have wreaked - and will wreak in the future - in your fine establishments. You see, my husband and I love to travel and we believe, for some reason, that we can still do so even though we now have a toddler in tow. It isn't until I'm in a hotel room for the 237th time that I remember why it is that sane people do not travel with little ones.

So that our stay may be a little easier - on us, and you - allow me to please make a few suggestions:

Please consider nailing or otherwise mounting the telephone, remote control and alarm clock to the wall so that they may not end up in the toilet. Also the little liquor bottles from the fridge.

I am sorry for the prank calls down to the concierge, front desk and in-room dining. Please do not ban us from ordering room service.

Please do not bring a baby cot / crib to our room. It will only be a painful reminder of where my child will not be sleeping during our stay.

Thank you for the wine glasses,

If you hear screaming and crying coming from our room, don't worry it's only nap time. If the screaming and crying you hear is that of a grown woman, then that means my daughter has switched the TV into some mode I cannot undo, and I have lost access to the only English-speaking channel I could find.

If you have complaints of the elevator stopping at every floor, again, I am sorry. To a little kid, it just looks like one giant remote control in there.

And when you come in to clean the room after we've gone, I am sorry for the unidentified stains and crusty patches you will find on the furniture and bedding. Most of it is likely food. Which means that at least some of it is not.

I appreciate everything you do to make our room clean, organized and fresh-smelling upon our arrival and wish I could maintain that for longer than the amount of time it takes for our 20-month to cross the threshold.


Abby Slate

p.s.  To show you just how sorry I am about the dishevelment we leave behind that would embarrass Guns n' Roses, I have left a tip for you under the pillow.  Unless, of course, my daughter found it, then kindly check the toilet.