The Incredibly Romantic Getaway

Cliff gave me a wonderful present for Christmas:  a romantic weekend getaway.  No kids, no calls, no work, just the two of us running away together.  Doesn't that just sound exciting and fun? Are you jealous?
So who wants to guess how many ways it went wrong?
1.  A huge cold front moves in.  Do we stay or do we go, and risk the possible blizzard?  How romantic will it be to return home to an ice cave because the pipes burst while we were gone?  Can I sell the pics of our ice encrusted house and (finally) pay off the dentist?
2.  What do you do when the friends you want to visit in Boise have to go to a grandfather's funeral in Utah?  And your Utah friends are coming up to Idaho to see her parents?  Can Cliff and I actually have a conversation that doesn't include who stayed dry last night or why that contractor insists on using the J-47 sealant instead of the epoxy overcoat system?  Who can we now include in our weekend so we can rely on them for all of our conversational needs?
3.  My incredibly loving yet diabolical brother got the new Rick Riordan book and gave it to me.  Can I read it on this romantic getaway?   Can my love of books and my love for Cliff live peacefully side by side, or must they eventually tear each other apart?  And after that last sentence, have I read the inside flap to too many romance novels?

So what actually happened on this incredibly romantic getaway?  We stayed at home.  I cleaned a bathroom and Clifford took a nap.  We moved the big TV into our bedroom for New Year's Eve to watch 4 hours of Leverage and ate some subpar cheese bites.  I bought a new coat and Clifford didn't complain while I was shopping for it.  Clifford shopped for a 32 gig Ipod Touch and I didn't complain while he searched (in vain) for it.  We baked cookies and a pie and slept in until 8:30.  And we loved it.