As a result of spending far too much time watching those dreadful twins Zach and Cody on the Disney Channel, JT has been after me to order room service when we stay in a hotel. We don't actually stay in very many hotels, so it's been easy to resist this campaign. But Friday night, as the students were at their Model Congress sessions and I was gripped by my chronic end-of-the-week exhaustion, I caved in and said we could have supper from the room service menu.
JT ordered a hot dog and fries, not exactly the most elegant of dining options, but one of the essential ingredients in the JT food trifecta of hot dog, chicken fingers and pizza.
As he admired the fancy glass for his ice water and the miniature bottle of ketchup he announced, "this is the life."
I assume this "Suite Life of JT" also included hijinx, a dry-witted concierge, and a dim-witted heiress? (I'm so disappointed that I know these kinds of things)
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