I can’t reveal all of our bad habits in one post, but this one is a memorable moment that I will never forget – and neither will anyone in our Baton Rouge hotel in the fall of 2018. My sweet Vivian is the life of the party, she loves entertaining, giving weather reports, and singing. But, she is terrified of storms, heights and elevators. Like her mom, she has a few things that she’s very peculiar about and we didn’t realize the breadth of her fear of elevators until a quick trip to see our LSU Tigers play in Baton Rouge.
My husband and I made a mad dash to the hotel to check in only an hour before the game started. The attendant handed us our 6th floor keys and we darted off to catch the nearest elevator. That’s when things went haywire. Vivian froze. I tried to coax her into the elevator and offered every bribe I could to get her on.. She refused. I stepped out of the elevator to grab her and she took off running and screaming through the hotel lobby. I rushed after her. All I could think was I had to grab her before she reached the front doors. (She was running like the wind…it was mind-boggling how fast she was). I reached out to grab the back of her shirt and off it came. Now she was half naked and I looked like a crazy women chasing a shirtless baby. I caught her right as she was crossing the threshold to the entrance of the hotel. I picked her up and carried her little shirtless, screaming body to the stairs in the back of the hotel. I was shaking and nervous…and mortified. But, so was Vivian. Several guests and a hotel employee came to check on us. I knew what I was thinking, and couldn’t imagine what they were thinking.
When I finally got her to stop crying and tell me what happened, she said that she was scared of getting stuck in the elevator. She was four! I had no clue that she was that terrified. We ended up walking the six flights of stairs to our room that day, and for years after took the stairs. Each time we would go to a hotel, we’d ask for a lower room floor. Trent and Stella would haul the luggage while Vivian and I got to know the stair routes of every hotel we stayed in.
Only in the last few years did we attempt riding elevators. I started by picking her up and letting her bury her head in my neck. Finally, she would ask to push the buttons. And now she actually gets on, but always holds on to me or Trent. We’ve come a long way from that half-naked little nut running through the lobby. Thank goodness for Superior Grill margaritas and Tiger football for getting us through that day.
