This room is your room, this room is my room.
Musical rooms.
My nose won't stop running and neither will the jacuzzi.
Hang on to your luggage.
Now you know why they say "don't drink the water."
I hope we don't see the guy who saw me in my underwear at dinner.
Anyway, our flight to Mexico was great. The people at the airport in Cancun were incredibly nice and helpful. We had to fill out health forms, and, even though I had a cold, Mom made me lie and deny that I had "nasal flux" (their words, not mine) so they wouldn't think I had the swine flu. We collected all our luggage; after losing one of our bags on our trip last year, we were thrilled it was all there! We were greeted by lots of smiling guides with Edward Jones signs, given cold bottles of water, and directed to a chartered bus that took us to our resort. The resort was beautiful.
When we got to the resort, our luggage (and that of many other Edward Jones families) was unloaded off the bus. We went through it and found all of our bags . . . except for one, of course. This was a mystery to us since we knew had all of our bags at the airport. There was one not-yet-claimed suitcase there that looked a lot like ours, with a blue ribbon and an Edward Jones tag, but it wasn't ours. It was Mr. Sutton's. We thought maybe his family had accidentally grabbed our suitcase and taken it to their room. There were 70 families on our trip, and lots of suitcases with Edward Jones tags; it would've been an easy mistake to make. So we went to our room (sort of) and trusted that the mostly-helpful hotel staff would find our missing bag.
When we checked in, we realized that our rooms, which were guaranteed to be connecting, were actually several rooms apart. One of the resort employees found two connecting rooms for us, but told us they wouldn't be ready for a couple more hours. They gave us a key to another room, though, where we could hang out until our rooms were ready. So off we went to room #1. After about thirty minutes in room #1, we got a call telling us that our bags had been delivered to our room. Only they hadn't. They had been delivered to another wrong room, room #2. So we got a key to room #2 and went to hang out in that room for a while (this still wasn't either of the rooms we would actually be staying in). Dad and the kids got their swim suits on and went to the pool, while Mom and I stayed in room #2, waiting to be told that our actual rooms were ready.
Well, then I had to use the restroom. In the using-the-restroom process, the bottom of my capri pants got wet by some unknown liquid substance that was on the bathroom floor. Unsure if this substance was just water from a leaky toilet or someone else's pee that had never been cleaned up, I freaked out a bit, yanked my pants off, and began to dry them with a hair dryer. It was just Mom and me in the room. No big deal. I was standing there, wearing just my t-shirt and underwear, drying my pants when the door to our room opened. I was practically standing right in front of the door. Great. I loudly yelled, "Who is that?!" (thinking that it was probably Dad or one of the kids) and ducked into the toilet-area part of the bathroom (the only part with a door, of course). Mom jumped off the bed and ran to see who it was. It was a man and his family, and he said, "I'm sorry. They told us this was our room." He and his wife went on to explain to Mom that this was the second or third room they'd been to (apparently this hotel just passes out random room keys to random people all the time!). They realized we were all with Edward Jones, and Mom started to explain our crazy room situation to them. I was watching this interaction, via a mirror, from the safety of my little potty room--still without my pants--when I thought, "Hey, if I can see him, he can see me!" The door behind which I was hiding was clear (nice) and I was looking into a mirror, which was directly in front of the front door (hence, he could see my reflection through the clear door - you with me?)! Awesome. So then I had to find a way to hide in that tiny room without our visitors being able to see me in the mirror. I remained trapped there until our new friends left in search of their actual room. And I hoped we wouldn't run into them at our welcome dinner that night.
Finally we got a message telling us that our actual rooms, #3 and #4, were ready. We also got a message that our missing bag had been located! Guess where it was? Oh, the Cancun airport, of course. As it turned out, we were the ones who'd taken the Suttons' bag, not vice versa. We'd mistakenly picked up their bag when we got off the plane and brought it to the resort with us. The Suttons thought the airline had lost their luggage and filed a complaint, only to come to the resort and find their bag waiting on them there (You're welcome, Sutton family. We'll be happy to pick up your bags for you anytime). Mr. Sutton had seen our look-alike suitcase at the airport and suspected that we might've accidentally taken theirs, but of course the airport employees wouldn't let him bring ours to us. It was delivered later that night, though.
Rooms #3 and #4, our final rooms, were great! This is mine and Kia's room. Mom, Dad, and Jamal's looked about the same, only with two queen beds instead of one king and a couch.
We were on the first floor and could walk right out to the pool. :-)
Shortly after our move to rooms #3 and #4, Dad and the kids came back from the pool. Tekia, of course, wanted to try out our jacuzzi. In she went.
We turned the jacuzzi on, and then Kia started to notice that the water was looking a bit yellow. This drove home what we'd told her about not drinking the water, ha! She immediately wanted out of the tub, so out she came. But there was a small problem. The button that I used to turn the jacuzzi on didn't seem to work to turn it back off. There was no obvious timer on the thing - just one single button. After numerous attempts to turn it off, we finally called the front desk for some help. They would send someone right away. Here is our abandoned jacuzzi.
An hour and a half and one more phone call later, the jacuzzi was still running. By this time, we were late for dinner (where we so badly wanted to hang out with the people whose luggage we stole and those who saw me in my underwear). Mom decided to make one last valiant effort to stop the overactive jacuzzi. After stabbing the button with the end of a toothbrush a few times, she was finally able to get the jacuzzi to stop!
And then we went to dinner. And Mr. Sutton, whose luggage we stole, went through the food line with us. Of course.
The rest of our time in Mexico was much less exciting and involved lots of laying by the pool and eating great food and less stealing of luggage and switching of rooms. And, needless to say, we did not try out the jacuzzi anymore that week.
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