Romance, Not Sex, at a Bed and Breakfast [Tall Drink of Nerd]

Let me start off by clarifying that the Bed and Breakfast I am referring to is lovely. The proprietor was very nice and her breakfast, consisting of platter bacon, two types of crustless veggie quiche and blueberry clafloutis was divine. The rooms were immaculate and the resident cat spent the night on the foot of our bed. We had a perfectly lovely experience. Now down to the nitty gritty, or rather, lack of any nitty or gritty. I’m not sure who came up with the idea that a Bed and Breakfast stay was “romantic”, but now I honestly think they were people who liked having strangers listen to them getting down. A B&B is cozy, yes, homey, sure, but romantic in a sexy way, no. The word romantic is so commonly paired with B&B, that it seems natural to just say “We’re going to a romantic B&B up the coast!” and when I made the reservations, that is exactly the thought that ran through my head. Me: “Ooh honey, this room has a fireplace and overlooks the river” Seen (the honey, sneaking a peak at a picture on the Inn’s website): “Oh wow, that looks romantic!” Me: “The place is all booked up except for this one room. Let’s stay here for our romantic night away!” This would be a much needed getaway. By both our estimating, we hadn’t had an overnight outting together, by ourselves, since December 2004. It wasn’t for lack of interest, just life kept taking over and getting in the way. After a few years of overwhelming family commitments and being broke due to double unemployment, my hubby and I lost that ‘we need time away’ mindset. But now everything has calmed down, and I decided on Friday afternoon that...