For the last year or so, Husband has been deeply involved in the planning of NYU Abu Dhabi. He’s been there seven times on his own, while I hold down the fort here. It may come as a big surprise but being here alone with the boys was not the most fun I’ve ever had. And okay yes, I’ll admit to being just a teensy-eensy bit bitter about the fact that Husband got to go jaunting around on his own, while I stayed home and did the school-soccer-cooking-cleaning drill on my own (plus there’s that part where I have a job, too).
What I envied most, however, about Husband’s global travels was that he flew business class. The idea of lounging in a bed for thirteen hours with someone waiting on me? It’s like heaven at thirty thousand feet, give or take a few thousand.
Sometimes I think it’s a little pathetic that I pine after business class, but I do.
And tonight, my pining pays off: we’re all going to Abu Dhabi, flying Emirates Pearl Business Class. I would like to take this opportunity to offer an anticipatory apology to my fellow Pearl travelers for Liam and Caleb, who are enthralled with the whole “pod bed” concept–and plan to stay awake for the entire journey in order to watch as many movies as they can cram into the thirteen hour flight.
We’ve got an entire week in the desert, with side trips to see the tallest building in the world, in Dubai; and to an oasis resort, where we have promised the boys camel rides and dune walks. God knows what my white-food-only children will eat–it’s entirely likely they’re going to starve–and I’m just now realizing that all my summer clothes are in a wrinkled wad at the back of my closet, but I don’t care.
Say it with me: business class, business class, business class.
I know there must be more to life than business class, right? Hmm…
I know: first class, first class, first class.