Every year or so, I take a trip somewhere warmer than here with friends. The last couple of years, I've rented a house through a website (no, not Craigslist). Both times, the houses were very cool and the people who owned them were reasonably sane people.
The first year, I couldn't figure out how to turn the heat on for the pool in Florida, and the kindly representative of the owners, Cyndee, turned on the heat FROM CHICAGO.
Because the current plan is to go back to Florida this year, I e-mailed the person we rented from before.
Me: "We don't necessarily need the same house. It was pretty wonderful, and the bunkbeds were a popular choice but the Harry Potter and Disney bedrooms skewed a bit young to us, as we're all between 20 and...a polite assumption of 39."
Cyndee: "I'm so sorry" which, for the record, is how she's started every e-mail she's sent me, even though she's never done anything wrong "that we failed to meet your expectations for your last visit. I'll be sure to find something that skews older. Perhaps a golf course?"
Me: "Oh, this was not a complaint. I enjoyed the looks on my friends' faces when they had to pick the pile of assorted mice and Winnie The Pooh stuffed animals off their beds. I wouldn't be adverse to something similar, but it's not necessary. As for the golf course, none of us are the grown-up golf types, but if you have a house with a mini-golf course, you can marry whichever one of us you'd like."
Cyndee: "I'm so sorry" SEE, SHE DID IT AGAIN "but I am already happily married. Though a fling may be in order by February."