I love Hotels.com. I really do.

The one-page checkout is delightful, the app sublime, the simple rewards program a refreshing departure from the needlessly-complex points systems of chains and other OTAs.

But I hope their talented marketing team won’t be too offended by my sincere hope to never rise higher than Silver Status in the aforementioned program.

Here’s the story.

A few months ago I was traveling for work when, as I waited to board a flight, I heard two men talking about their “status”. Apparently that’s what business guys use for small talk.

Anyway, one, in response to the other being an echelon above him, said:

“Nice! That’s awesome! I’ll get there one day!”

You can only do so much Sherlock-style deduction from a Delta terminal, but I noticed both of the men were wearing wedding rings and one later mentioned kids.

Speaking of kids, that’s where my mind went.

Because to make it to just one level higher on Hotels.com would be seventeen more days on the road. Seventeen days without crunching leaves at the park. Without bedtime stories. Without games. Without waffles. Without tucking a warm blanket around my sons shoulders as he snuggles into bed (if you have children or randomly tucker strangers’ children into bed, you may know how satisfying that moment is).

Seventeen days without these hooligans.

If that’s the cost of status those blazer-wearing fellows can have all of it.

As for me, may I never board first as long as I live.