It always seems that vacations sneak up on me. I'll shop for new clothes and things days in advance, find someone to feed the cat (thanks, Haley), and clean the house. I always put off the major task that I dread--packing! I really hate to make the decision about which clothes to take, and which to leave behind. I'm always worried that I will forget something important, so the inner packrat kicks in, and tells me, "Pack everything!" My husband, however, does not share that viewpoint. An example of this would be a conversation that we had today:
Him: "Go upstairs and pack!"
Me: "As soon as I finish checking my e-mail (I didn't get any e-mail this weekend)"
Him: "I'm not going to be some goddamned sherpa walking around the airport with all of my earthly possessions!"
Me: "We're only taking two suitcases, a carry-on bag, my purse, a stroller, and the car seat."
It's now 11:20 at night, we are waking up at 4:30, leaving for the airport at 5:30, and are leaving for Las Vegas at 7:10 tomorrow morning. Darren is on the phone with Hertz right now, trying to rent a car seat for Zach. That would be one less thing to lug through the airport.
Anyway, we are off to gawk at all of the cheesy sights of Las Vegas for five days. We won't be doing much gambling, because we will have a three-year-old with us, but I'm sure it will be a lot of fun. I can't wait! See you Friday night!
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