The minute we walked into the hotel lobby, Sheamus’ eyes widened with curiosity, taking in the high ceilings, the grand chandelier, and the faint sound of soft piano music playing in the background. It was 4 PM on a Thursday, and while most people were just winding down from their workday, we were just beginning our mini staycation. This was our first time trying something like this—a little two-day break from our usual routine, and I could see the mix of excitement and apprehension in his eyes as we approached the front desk.
After we checked in, we made our way up to our room. As soon as we entered, Sheamus darted straight for the window, pressing his hands against the glass to look out over the city below. The view wasn’t much—just another building across the street—but to him, it was fascinating. We spent the next hour or so exploring every corner of the room, from the perfectly made beds to the minibar that I knew we wouldn’t touch. But the highlight for Sheamus was the ice machine in the hallway. I don’t know what it is about that machine, but the clattering of ice cubes tumbling down seemed to delight him more than anything else. He must have filled and emptied the ice bucket a dozen times, each time with the same look of pure joy on his face.
Friday morning, we slipped back into our normal routine, though in a different setting. We woke up early, like always, and headed down to the breakfast area. Sitting among the other hotel guests, we shared our morning meal, Sheamus focusing intently on his waffles, while I sipped my coffee, trying to gauge how he was feeling. There’s always a delicate balance with Sheamus—between sticking to the familiar and introducing new experiences, and today would be a mix of both.
After breakfast, we ventured out to the nearby mall. Our first stop was the shoe store, where Sheamus picked out a pair of Air Jordans. He’d had his eye on those shoes for a while now, and seeing the smile on his face when he laced them up was worth the trip alone. We also picked up some new clothes, with Sheamus carefully selecting each item, his brow furrowed in concentration as he assessed each option.
Lunch was at the food court, where Sheamus had his usual chicken nuggets and fries. The bustling environment could be overwhelming, and there were a few moments where he started to get agitated. I could see the tension building, the way his hands clenched and his breathing quickened. But we worked through it—just like we always do. I reminded him to take deep breaths, offered reassuring words, and within minutes, he was back to his calm self, enjoying his meal.
Saturday morning came too soon. We packed up our things and headed down to check out. As we approached the front desk, Sheamus did something that made my heart swell with pride—he gave each staff member a high five. It was his way of saying goodbye, and the smiles on their faces showed they appreciated the gesture. Our Lyft arrived shortly after, and as we climbed into the car, Sheamus settled in beside me, clutching his new shoes like they were the most precious thing in the world.
As we headed home, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. It wasn’t a perfect trip—there were rough patches, like always—but we made it through, and in the end, Sheamus had fun. And that’s all that matters.
