Spoons. And Dishing. No Moons, Gratefully.

I am standing at the check-in counter at the hotel, which is always too high (have you noticed?) although I am not a short woman. Daughter and I are excited about our girls' getaway in Monterey. The lobby smells vaguely of cigarettes and sea air, a combination that reminds me of pirates. Aye, matey.

Note: Any moment that is reminiscent of pirates is a good moment, indeed.

The hotel check-in lady is chatty. She is saying one queen bed okay? and I am saying oh sure, I don't mind sleeping with my daughter, as I didn't want her to get the wrong idea about our relationship, obviously.

She is still chatting. About having one bed. Women don't really mind, but men aren't as keen on the idea.

Note: She did not say keen. I just wanted to include the word keen as it is highly underused in general conversation.

Two men were checking in the other day, she says, and they weren't too happy about sleeping in one bed. She is giggling, now, thinking about it. One guy turns to the other and says, 'you want to be the big spoon or the little spoon'?

Sweet!

Note: I am always the little spoon. I don't think I have really ever been the big spoon. Just saying.