On our recent trip to Washington, D.C., Vivi had a terrifying experience at the hotel…
Translation:
BT was herding the kids down to the lobby and I was in the room gathering up the last of our things when I heard a scream of sheer terror. When I realized that it was Vivi screaming, I hurried out into the hall as BT raced past me headed the opposite direction toward the stairwell. Apparently, Vivi had stepped into the elevator (alligator) and the doors had closed behind her, trapping her inside all alone. Thankfully, the doors reopened when I pushed the elevator call button but not before Vivi was totally freaked out.
As scary as the experience was for all of us, it makes me laugh that, anytime I tell her I’m sorry, she says, “it’s ok, momma. It wasn’t your fault. It was daddy’s fault.”
