Note to luxury resorts: Some of us with enough disposable income to visit your properties have babies, and those babies poop. Think maybe you can acknowledge that? Like, ever?

Dear GM of fabulous, chichi luxury resort:

Allow me to start this letter by saying that my wife and I love your property. We were married on-site nearly eight years ago, and return every year to commemorate the occasion.

Those first few years we came back were amazing. We slothed by the pool, lazed on the beach, drank way too many high-priced cocktails and made liberal use of the “Privacy Please” door-hanger. In recent years, since we’ve became parents, we’ve brought our (now) two little ones back with us and the experience has been wonderful in entirely different ways. We’ve frequented the kiddie pool. We’ve ordered lots of room service. We’ve even taken advantage of some of your (kick-ass) kid-oriented programs.

Here, Mr. General Manager, lies the problem. You guys have invested millions in presenting us customers with the very best we upper middle-class people can afford. You charge $14 per tropical cocktail, and $17 for a plate of three pot stickers. Why, then, have you not installed changing tables in the main lobby bathrooms?

I learned of this oversight the hard way, last year. We visited with a then 25-month-old, who was still in diapers. I brought her to the men’s room to change her, and when we discovered there was no table, I ended up changing her on the (probably very expensive) carpet.

Fast-forward to this year. This past weekend, we visited again, this time with an 8-month-old. After a leisurely hour on your patio, the girl pooped her pants, and I took her to the same bathroom, only to find that, despite my formal complaint after the last debacle, no changing table had been added. I thought about going off on the attendant. I thought about schlepping my kid to the parking lot to change her in the trunk of the rental car.

Ultimately, I changed my second daughter on the same spot of carpet where I had changed my first.

Let me review: I, a paying customer, have changed two poopy diapers in two years on the same square of carpet in your lobby men’s room.

What will it take for a changing table? A stain in the carpet? Another guest complaining about the sight (or stench) of a kid’s fecal matter? Howabout a song and YouTube video, like the guy who crooned about how United Airlines breaks guitars?

Please let me know, so I can plan accordingly. I’ll be back again next June, and if I have to change my younger child on the floor of that bathroom again, I might just do it on one of those nice leather couches in the lobby instead.

Sincerely,
Matt Villano