Craziness Continued: Short Stories of Family Fun in the City Of Sin

Prime Rib and the Pube........ Day One

You know what is worse than driving 7 hours in the car, with a husband who is fanatic about obeying the speed limit and 3 kids? No, really I am asking, because the only thing I could think of, was adding more kids to that recipe for disaster, and If I could have kissed my IUD, I would have.

When we finally arrived in sunny, sinny, Las Vegas, I stripped off my nasty traveling clothes and stepped into the shower to cleanse away the filthy grime of the day's travel. I say, stripped off my clothes, because I did it slowly, pulled the faces and licked my lips, to see what all the hub bub is about. Hmm...... I guess, I either don't got 'it', or the Cheeto dust rising from my clothes, and my Spawn, banging on the bathroom door, didn't provide the right atmosphere. Damn billboards, got me thinking of a more glamorous, higher paying job, but I guess I will just stick to the gig I have now.

The hotel suite was beautiful, and much nicer than the Travelodge, the Mister and I are accustomed to. (Thanks, Mom and Dad!) The bathroom was monstrous and clean, and as soon as I stepped into the hot water, I could feel the tensions of the day begin to wash off. By the second cycle of Lather, Rinse, and Repeat; I had almost forgiven Emma for the tantrum she threw at the Beaver Truck Stop, which prevented me from purchasing an "I (Heart) Beaver" t-shirt, and Dylan for asking if we were still in Oakley, 45 times.

Just as I was rinsing the last of the suds from my locks, my eyes opened to spy a black, tightly curled donation from the last guest's nether regions, stuck to the ceiling in the shower. I shrieked for Dave to join me, and as he raced in, thinking that I had severed an artery shaving, I gestured towards the offender, and we both giggled while he examined it. We had a lovely time pondering it's owner and the possibilities of how it made it to the ceiling. I decided to abide by the What Happens in Vegas, rule and didn't splash the poor guy into the drain.

After Dave left, I thought it would be funny if, when he showered next, the hair had moved. This came after much debate between disgusting and humorous. Eventually, I reasoned that I was indeed in the shower, and could easily wash my hands after re-arranging the hair. Just as I reached my hand up to the ceiling, Dave opened the door and stepped in with a horrified look on his face. I immediately felt myself go red, and he stammered, "You're touching it??" I explained that I was just repositioning it for his entertainment, and hurried it up with the washing my hands rationale.

Even as I type this, I think, maybe this is what they are talking about, when they say something should "stay in Vegas". Please accept my apology for the anecdote about shower hair, and know deep in your heart that, that hair was the highlight of the rest of my showers in Vegas, and stayed until the very last day, when neither Dave nor I, knew what happened to it.

NEXT, we went to the buffet.

After everyone was settled, showered, and ready for some excitement we,(My Dad, Hannah, and SIL, Mallory, plus my crew) hit the South Point Casino for dinner. Dawson was in Meat Heaven, and since we were on vacation, our dietary standards were a little lax, and we let the kids eat what they wanted. Dawson filled his plate with prime rib, and fish, Dyl ate strictly cantaloupe, and Emma just walked around, taking bites of everyone else's. Quickly enough, they discovered the dessert bar, and just filled up on that weird, fake ice cream.

On the way out, Dawson showed us the "Twins". Earlier, while we were getting settled, my Dad had taken the kids through the casino, to get to the game room. They passed the bar, where two cocktail waitresses were filling their orders and Dawson got the attention of Gran-pa Ranny, and said, "Hey, Look! Twins!" My Dad told us they were probably fraternal twins, since one was Chinese, but from Dawson's line of vision, they looked identical from the thong down. We may have to have, "The Talk" sooner rather than later.

Gran-pa Ranny