The last week has flown by. It's now time to pack and get ready for the trip to the airport at lunch tomorrow. We don't have a direct flight on the way down, which isn't the end of of the world. What should be a 3 hour trip will be 4.5 in flights and a 1 hr layover in Denver. Oh well. This means we'll be hitting the tables at 8pm instead of 5:30pm. I'm sure Vegas will wait for us.
The boy seems to be doing well this week. He's been having regular naps, and sleeping better at night. He was awful crazy/cranky this evening...maybe he can sense that mom and dad are buggering off on him again for a weekend of silliness.
I believe that the plan for Vegas is as follows: Arrive - get room - ditch stuff - go to the Peppermill - get girl drinks the size of my head - play craps - WIN - gamble & drink into a haze of dancing girls, Elvis music and flashy lights - Wake up in my clothes next to a Mexican midget with marriage certificate with someone named "Roshanda" - kick midget out of room & hide Brook from Roshanda - clean up - hit the breakfast buffet - poker tournament at Paris at 9:30am (this might be a bit aggressive after the Thursday night festivities, but we'll see ) - WIN - lunch - more poker - WIN - Slots - WIN - meet up with friends that arrive - hit the craps table at Bally's - enter haze of flashy lights, dancing girls, the sound of 'BING BING BING' and drinks in plastic Eiffel Towers - Wake up in Brooks clothes next to a Sammy Davis Jr. impersonator who calls me "babe" - clean up - hit breakfast buffet (at noon) with Sammy...at this point we'll be subdued mostly due to Roshanda nagging me that I never take her anywhere, ditch Roshanda and take Brook to Le Reve at Wynn ( we'll be going for drinks and dinner like respectable people...I'll need to tell Roshanda that I'm busy) - go to bed and remember it - Sunday will be a day full of poker and winning - then home and completely deny ever being in Vegas (I'll send Roshanda a letter telling her my real name is Darren Gangur).
Well...looks like I need to get my rest.