BougieSis and I were chilling at the Four Seasons Punta Mita. We've taken some fairly awesome vacations before but absolutely nothing compares to the uberluxuriousness, understated "what can I get you, Senorita?" wonderfulness that we experienced at this place. It takes about 40 minutes to get there from the Puerto Vallarta airport. It's a winding scenic drive with breathtaking ocean views and foliage along the way. By the time you get there, you are completely mellow.
The Four Seasons doesn't play with a reception desk. A manager comes and seats you on a super deep padded sofa where you are introduced to the property. Until they ask for your credit card, you kind feel like you stumbled into a really nice house you get to borrow for a while. The property was so spread out, you have to take a golf cart to get your oceanfront casita. When they opened the door to our spot (larger than many apartments I've lived in), our mouths fell open. Huge bathtub, indoor/outdoor shower. Bed like a cloud. Fab decor. Can you say gorgeous?! This was the view from our back patio.
All of this to say that by the time we went to breakfast the next morning, we were in a tranquil Zen state that very little could jar us out of... except for Ethan. Ethan was a tow-headed child about four years of age who clearly did not understand the concept of public versus personal space nor indoor vs. outdoor voice. Ethan was a hooligan whose parents thought it was cute to let him be free to express himself in any old kinda way. (I didn't express my true thoughts until I'd been out of my parents house for years. Years, you hear me? Anyway...)
For any of you who've been to beach locations you know it's never a good idea to feed the birds. Once they know food is free, they will dive bomb in Hitchcockian frenzies to get it. This did not stop Ethan from flinging his banana pancake about for the birdies. Pity BougieSis and I were at the next table and the birds didn't care that we weren't Ethan.
Ethan also thought it would be fun to run around the table (ours in particular) screeching at the birds. Ethan's father finally realized that BougieSis was contemplating assault and battery with a butter knife and hopped up to calm Ethan down. By then Ethan was ready to swim. Much whining and fit-throwing commenced. And then for some odd reason, they decided to stand right next to us while slathering Ethan's fair skin from top to bottom with copious amounts of sunscreen. Ethan did not like this and shared his displeasure loudly.
Other children, seeing that Ethan was allowed to cut a fool, soon joined in the hooliganism. When one parent attempted to scold their hooligan, the child screamed "You can't make me!" BougieSis and I were stunned silent. We picked up the beach bags and headed over the "Adult Pool" also known as the "Quiet Outdoor Lounge" where we whiled away the afternoon.
Lookie here, I love kids. I really do. But back in my day (yeah, I said it) when we went out to eat, we sat at the table and ate and made polite conversation. Period. There was no running off. No flinging of foods, no demands for the last piece of bacon (yes, that happened). And whether we were at the table or not, we never (not nan once ever) raised our voices to our parents. I liked my head, I wanted it to stay attached to my body. I was Queen of the Eyeroll and even I knew to do it when backs were turned and folks were on their way out of the room.
So I ask you, BougieLand - what's wrong with these kids today? Were you allowed to "talk back" to your parents? Were you allowed to interrupt/disagree/smart mouth any elder? Did you run free in restaurants? Inquiring minds need to know... cuz I just don't understand.