Funny Bones: An Airbnb Review … by my Grandson

by Alan Katz

Introduction

I may only be 17 months old, but wherever I hang my bib is my home, and I get around. That being said, I can be somewhat exacting about my accommodations, and if my every id-driven whim is not immediately satisfied, well, I can get a bit histrionic. When you are this cute, you can make demands.

Naturally, I was not too happy when I was put in the car seat for an interminable trip (what’s with this sitting backwards—am I a piece of luggage?!). Upon arrival, I was a little concerned. Is this our new home and I was not consulted? Yet, it looked somewhat familiar, and I heard we were in Bard LLI territory, so I figured we were stepping out for a little Airbnb vacation run by Bard LLI student hosts, and now feel obligated to provide this review for future visitors.

Hosts

The hosts seem nice, although a little long in the tooth, especially for students— but what do I know? I am in daycare, so all of you look ancient! I recognize them as the ones who visit often and who I see on FaceTime most evenings, making really lame “oooh” and “aaaah” sounds in excitement about my every move. Kind of odd that Mom and Dad have gotten so friendly with our Airbnb hosts. And where exactly did these people learn to child-proof?! As Liam Neeson would say, I have a particular set of skills, and they involve being instantly drawn to the most dangerous parts of any room. Isn’t there a Bard LLI course on child-proofing to help them up their game?!

Food

Overall, I was quite happy with the cuisine and service. I realize that I can be the infant version of Audrey II, the plant from Little Shop of Horrors (“feed me, mommy, feed me all night long”), so put a spoon in my mouth or hand and I’m yours. Heck, who needs a spoon–— just drop the chow down anywhere in my vicinity and I will take care of the rest. The hosts were impressive at crushing bananas and providing frozen bagels (teething is not for sissies). As for dessert, if they keep plying me with this new invention of theirs they call “ice cream,” yeah, I will call them “Nana” or any other ridiculous name they decide upon.

My Brother (?)

Speaking of food, why is it that my older brother sits on the floor under my highchair, waiting for my mistakes? Well, at least I think he is my brother. He was here when I got here, acts like he owns the place, and, lucky boy, he gets to eat from a bowl on the floor. Not sure how old he is since he seems to already need a shave, but he talks worse than I do, and so I expect he cannot be too bright. I tell him, “Hey, kid, you are not going to be a hit in Olin Hall if you just sit in a corner chewing on someone else’s sock,” but does he listen?

Strange Occurrences

There was some weird voodoo magic going on here–— do they teach occult courses at Bard LLI? The hosts can put their hands in front of their face and just disappear! Crazy, I know. Then they open their hands and miraculously are back while yelling this odd incantation (peek-a-boo! What’s that mean?). I am also now formally lodging a complaint with Airbnb since someone set up a Ring doorbell-type video and audio link to watch and listen while I sleep. What am I, local wildlife? Afraid I might swipe their Amazon deliveries? Downright creepy if you ask me.

Rating

All in all, I give a five-star rating for this Airbnb and happily post it here on the Bard LLI newsletter. The hosts seem to have lost a few steps from their own parenting days, but they do get points for effort and enthusiasm. Rumor has it that they may be headed my way to chip in during my daycare’s holiday week break. They have absolutely no idea what they have gotten themselves into, but a little more of that ice cream for breakfast, and maybe I will go easy on them.