Confessions of a B&B Owner: Why We Hate Spring

Tales from the dark side — a B&B owner (Illustration: Ryan McCullah)

Plenty of people dream about quitting their day job, buying that fixer-upper farmhouse, and opening a bed-and-breakfast. Those B&B owners seem so happy. Well, everything isn’t quite as idyllic as it seems. We got one set of innkeepers — “Bob and Emily” — to anonymously spill the beans on what really happens behind those perfectly painted shutters.

This week. Bob and Emliy reveal why they can’t stand this time of year. And no, it’s not because of the weather.

No vacancy — what Bob and Emily wish they would have told you this spring. (Photo: Thinkstock)

Spring is finally in the air. And puke is on the porch. While the rest of you have been craving the end of winter, we secretly dreaded it. Winter for us means quiet evenings spent by the fireplace with a handful of guests who have a certain self-sufficiency about them that we find lacking in our spring-time customers. Winter guests arrive; they visit briefly; they leave us alone. And they don’t party.

This year, maybe because the whole country has cabin fever, the party started with Valentine’s weekend. It’s a holiday that we usually love, filled with roses, chocolates, and love notes placed in guest’s rooms before check-in. But this year it was all about Fireball Cinnamon Whisky and apple-flavored Crown Royal, drunken couples fighting on the front lawn, and the screeching of tires as angry lovers sped away in the middle of the night. Law enforcement was necessary. Thank you! You’ve ruined another holiday for us.

We barely got that mess cleaned up before the onslaught of spring break began. Keep in mind that we aren’t the kind of place that hosts partying teens over the break, but even couples and families with school-aged children that seemed genuinely nice when they called to book their week-long stay sometimes turn out to be pot-smoking, vodka-swilling child neglectors.

Related: Fact: People are Gross. And These B&B Owners Have the Evidence to Prove It

Please keep an eye on your kids. (Photo: Thinkstock)

Our spring break horror stories come in three varieties. Let’s begin with single dads in charge of the kids for the week. They start out earnest in their overzealous efforts to please and entertain the children that they normally don’t see on a day-to-day basis. They play ball, go for hikes, and spend evenings playing board games. By the time it’s over, they have resorted to beer before noon, round-the-clock movies, and Peanut M&M’s for dinner.

Next in line are the couples. These are usually moms on the loose with a new boyfriend because their ex has the kids for the week. We keep waiting for the time when a mom with boyfriend and her ex with kids all show up at our place at the same time. Generally mom and her BF have way too much fun, leaving us with puke on the floor, panties under the bed, and a dumpster overflowing with empty bottles. We’ve voted these couples “the guests most likely to smoke pot in our rooms.” It’s even worse when mom gets stuck bringing the kids along because dad bailed at the last minute to spend the week with his new girlfriend. The kids are sent out to play. Alone. All day. Without supervision.

Then there are the grandparents. They bring children that only a grandparent could love. The kind that have no inside voice. The kind that chase everything that moves and expect Grandma to grant their every wish. Like the weekend warrior dads, grandparents start out being attentive, hoping to impart some bit of wisdom about the stars or catching grasshoppers. They quickly cave to endless pleas for ring pops and PG-13 movies. Their rooms are disgusting, with sticky handprints on every surface and enough mud and leaves on the carpet to plant a garden.

Related: Watch Out: Your Innkeeper is Spying on You and Other Confessions of a B&B Owner

Please don’t bring your green beer to our B&B. (Photo: Thinkstock)

And then, as we face another week of such family bliss, along comes St. Patrick’s Day. With a smidge of Irish in our lineage, we vaguely remember this as a fun holiday involving green T-shirts, baked goods with green-dyed icing, and as we got older, a stop at a local bar pretending to be an Irish pub by serving a pint of green-dyed beer. When did it become a drunken free-for-all for everyone over the age of 18 and a license to throw green Mylar confetti for everyone over the age of 2? And why is it now a three-day event? It’s a one-day thing, people. You don’t start drinking on March 14 and hope to still be standing by the 17th.

Related: We Hate Your Kids - and Other Confessions of a B&B Owner

We understand that you’ve been snow-bound for days on end. The kids have been driving you crazy. The beginning of summer still seems like an eternity away. You need to celebrate something. Anything! But as we scrub the green-dyed vomit off of our front porch and attempt to rake shiny green bits from the flower beds, our fear grows. If you’re starting the insanity this early, how wild will summer be? Will we survive? Our hope is that you learn to pace yourselves. If not, we beg you, please find another place to celebrate the Fourth of July.

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