The changing definition of what makes a good hotel

I’m sitting on the hard floor of the hotel bathroom waiting for River to take his nap. I’ve been here for well over an hour and it’s just recently become quiet. So I’m hoping he has fallen asleep and will thus be in a good enough mood for us to be able to enjoy dinner with friends tonight. When I was young and poor and adventurous, my idea of a good hotel was someplace really cheap and reasonably safe. If there was free breakfast, that was a bonus. I didn’t care so much about location as I only came to the hotel to crash. I was exploring the rest of the day. When I dated Mark long-distance and we had to meet up in countries located halfway between us, I started to value a little more of the romantic element, as well as privacy. Now, a Jacuzzi was a bonus. Mark wants central location, so I started to get used to being able to walk from the hotel and easily get to all of the local attractions. Now, traveling with a toddler, I’d say location is definitely key. There is a lot more freedom if one is able to walk out the door and see and do things, rather than have to bundle the kid into a car. Now, the big bonus is either an extra room, or a situation in which I can feel safe leaving him alone in the room and hanging out in a pleasant lobby. If neither of those are possible, than a bathroom or a closet sufficiently large enough to put a travel crib in is a bonus. Since I have neither now, the entire room is River’s and I’m relegated to the bathroom floor. Oh well, as long as there is a nap and I have a little bit of quiet time, I guess I’m OK with ceramic tile.