Las Vegas, Part II

Circus Circus was a Circus.

I filed a complaint about a Circus Circus Adventure Dome security guard (instead of giving her a good knock in the head like I wanted to). Here's the story:

Rob sends the four younger kids up the platform to get in line for the log flume, while he heads for the ride exit to wait for them. Meantime, the kids are told Elle is too short to ride, so they go back down to where Rob had been, just missing each other. That's when they get lassoed by "Grouchy Grandma" security officer.

"Where are your parents?!"
Getty: "I don't know."
Grouchy: "Don't give me that. I don't have time for this sh--."
Sensitive Cy got teary eyed, to which she barked, "Why are you crying?"
Cy: "I'm not."
Grouch in a huff: "Good!"

Oooooooo.  Momma Bear was not happy to hear this story. Not happy at all.

Eight layers was all it took to keep warm for an 8 a.m. soccer game. No coat, so I just layered everything I did bring—2 shirts, 2 sweaters, 2 sweatshirts, Rob's fleece jacket, and a doubled-over wool blanket. Mmmm, toasty. (Of course, you'll notice that MK isn't even wearing under armor. Show off ;)

Rob took the girls to Jabbawockeez. M&M gave it rave reviews.

Vegas breakfast is served: ice cream in whiskey glasses.

Last minute Vegas entertainment before we head home.

Sign of a successful vacation: Rob said, "I could do this once a month."