September 19, 2012

Vegas, Baby!

Some Vegas Highlights:


*Kids can’t do illicit drugs in Vegas.  So without thinking we needed to explain this, my 5 year old found a loophole.  He started snorting apple juice at breakfast. 


*I made the mistake of saying, “People get naked in Vegas.”  Both my boys perked up.  My 5 year old began taking his pants off at the Treasure Island show.  He was disappointed when I made him stop. 


*On a positive note, my boys suggested I get naked in Vegas because I have such a cute butt.  That was nice.  Sadly, it wasn’t enough.  I thought they might just be tricking me. 


*Any show in Vegas that seems like it might be for kids is not for kids.  I counted about 752 inuendos in the 5 minute Sirens Show at Treasure Island.  But luckily the quality of the show was amazing…  course I’m used to school programs where no one sings or dances well.


*Girls in bikinis at the pool always choose large groups of men to serve drinks to before they choose families.  I don’t know why, but it was as if we were invisible.  I WAS going to order drinks for all four of us, by the way. 


*My husband and 8 year old having a splash contest at the pool wasn’t as cute and fun to the primpers nearby.  Again, don’t know why, but I did notice the disgust on many faces.


*There are toilets every 30 miles or so on the strip.  Not a problem.  I told my 5 year old to pee through the fence, and I would look shocked and disgusted if anyone noticed.  No one noticed. 


*The most fun you can have in Vegas after snorting apple juice is running up the down escalators on the strip.  I was pretty sure an old bitty was about to peel out of her skin showing her disgust at our negligence as parents, letting our kids act like this.  I am pretty sure that was my impetus to let them do it over and over until she was out of sight.  Bite me, lady.  I am a way worse parent than this, so try to disgust someone else into feeling that shame. 


*Lastly, crossing the border into CA is pretty crazy (we got lost for a second).  In order to figure out if we were criminals, they asked us, “Where are you coming from?”  We answered, “the black market…  I mean—Phoenix, Phoenix, Arizona! Damn!!!”  Ok, seriously we answered, “Phoenix”.  But how was that supposed to decide whether we were smuggling drugs or illegal aliens?  Next time, fill me up!