Who is the Head of the Family?

After a lot of CNN-watching, internet-scouring and hand-wringing, we have decided to go to Jamaica after all.

It nearly made S cry over the weekend when - while thinking a hurricane was going to wreck what would probably be our last holiday until next summer - Beaches' welcome pack finally arrived in the post, ecstatically describing all the lavish fun we would have on their resort, and enclosing shiny luggage tags.

The weird thing was that, despite Beaches KNOWING that A is just a baby, they addressed it to her:

"Dear Miss Horner,

Thank you for booking your vacation with Beaches.

Enclosed are your vouchers for your resort transfer from the airport for you and your two guests, Mr. B. Horner and Mrs. S. Horner.

If you would like to book yourself a Red Lane Spa treatment, or a romantic candelit dinner for two, please do not hesitate to contact the resort concierge."

It's like American Airlines. They send A a weekly application form for her own credit card, when they know she is a baby.

But perhaps travel companies are not really stupid.

They know A is the Head of the Family.

Otherwise, we would spending this holiday doing something dangerous like backpacking around Colombia, or getting lost in the Amazonian rainforest.

Instead, we are going somewhere where you can Bake with Cookie Monster.