The Honeymoon - (Isn't It Romantic - Day I)

I am sitting in a hotel room on a frosty Friday morning in northern New Hampshire enjoying the first full day of our honeymoon.

The sun has decided to come out finally, after days of rain. Outside the window a blaze of light cuts across a bank of maples and birches. Despite being completely colorblind, the brilliance of the fall change is not lost on me - the flat colors of the summer that I see turn into multiple shades of gray. Not exciting to read about, for sure, and probably sounding a little queer ("Hey, Andy, gotta love that shade of gray there").

But it's the contrast of fall and the smell of wood fires, the way things turn crisp, that I've always loved.

This will not turn out to be a romantic getaway by any stretch. Corrine and I are joined by Griffin, the 3-month-old, and Gabrielle, the Night Owl.

There is zero romance in trying to eat mushroom caps stuffed with seafood, and baked stuffed jumbo shrimp, in a great restaurant while a 2-year-old eats the tabs of butter and the baby has audible gas. The elderly couple seated next to us were French Canadian and were noticeably put off by Gabi's hide-and-seek behind a restaurant curtain. They kept giving Corrine dirty French Canadian looks as they sipped their wine.

Our hotel room echoes, and anyone with children will tell you that the sound of a child's own voice is a child's most beloved sound, especially when augmented. Gabrielle loves to sing. Loudly. And I secretly hope the Canucks are staying in the room below us.

Griffin is not loud, except when passing gas, which is actually funny as hell, and smells aweful. I say this to paint a portrait for you. When the lights go out, and Gabi is finally asleep, Corrine and I can nuzzle warmly together, our first real bit of physical contact for awhile...and Griffin lets loose.

Kinda kills the mood, waving our arms around, trying to shoo away the stink, as it were.

Today we were going to go to Storyland but as it turns out, they are now only open on the weekends. So it looks like we'll have to wing it and do a tour. Maybe head into Conway and surf Settler's Green.

We are deliberately unencumbered by schedule, because we both know that with children, setting your mind to doing a list of things never ever ever works out.