It's nap time in Vegas. There might not be any rest for the wicked, but my two year old still reeeeeeally needs his mid-day sleep. I know this about him because he went through this phase recently where he didn't think he needed it. He was wrong.
Nap time in Vegas is real nice though. I got Starbucks and chocolate from downstairs and am watching cable (we don't have tv at home, not even Netflix, so this feels actually luxurious even though it's only Friends reruns), and during commercials, I'm looking out the window. Because we're on the twenty-somethingth floor and the strip looks sweet against that mountain range.
I don't know what we're going to do when Sully wakes up. Probably jump on the monorail and head down the strip (is there anything else TO do? Serious question. Tell me). Barclay has a work conference all week (it's why we came), so we're mostly on our own. Yesterday, we took the monorail all the way to the south end of the strip and explored Mandalay Bay, the Luxor, that castley place, New York New York, and the T-mobile park. It got dark around the time we found a magical little spot with lots of twinkle lights and a busker, and that seemed to be Sully's favourite part of the day, right up there with splitting those french fries at the Luxor. I'm scoring all the mom points with him right now.
He walked a million miles yesterday, with both hands in his pants pockets and a neutral expression on his face, only piping up now and then to tell me which way we should walk or to express his excitement over something (which, at one point happened to be a fully-clothed older gentleman. Sully stopped right in front of him and yelled, "OH GOOD! THAT GUY GOT DRESSED THIS MORNING! HE'S WEARING CLOTHES! Yep. That's good. He's got pants on." I don't know where that came from. It was pretty embarrassing for everyone involved. The old man mostly ignored him).
I'm going to dump all my Thus Far pictures here so I don't blow Instagram up. Thanks, blog.