Viva Las Vegas

Wednesday February 10, 2010 - Las Vegas Strip (Somewhere between Flamingo & New York New York)

My mom is an over zealous worry wart. For weeks prior to our trip she drove my sister and me crazy with a series of random questions regarding our upcoming trip. Sometimes, the same questions over and over as if somehow her usual keen memory had suddenly sunk into a senile state. Robin & I had agreed that the first chance we got, we were going to get mom good and drunk in an attempt to calm her down. However, this backfired. Apparently, my mom no longer has a tolerance for alcohol and becomes very, very loud.

Coke-a-Cola store.
Upon entering the store to the right of the entrance is a giant Coke-Bear mascot. I think we’ve all established what I think of giant plushy mascots (i.e. Chuck-E-Cheese). My mom, who is very drunk by this point, stops dead in her tracks and points to the bear exclaiming, “AMY! LOOK! YOU NEED TO GET YOUR PICTURE TAKEN WITH THE BEAR!” My sister every so kindly takes this opportunity to run far, far away from us to the next level of the store. I smile uncomfortably and decline while quickly ducking behind displays trying to pretend I am interested in buying over-priced Coke products. Little did I know my mom is a very stubborn, loud and persistent drunk. How naïve I was to think that would be the end of my bear woes.

I was on the second level gathering numerous trinkets to bring back for Jimmy (he likes to collect Coke-a-Cola memorabilia) when my mom suddenly appeared. I took one look at her wicked grin and noticed that she looked a touch more intoxicated than ten minutes prior. I looked at the giant cheesy souvenir drinking glass she had been working on (approx 8 oz of rum mixed with about 1 liter of Coke) and it still wasn’t finished. Oh my. If she hasn’t even finished yet and she’s this far gone, I can only imagine what she’ll be like once she is done that whole thing. My sister and I had each polished off the same drinking glass leaving both of us unaffected. I remembered that this was probably more than my mom had had in three years…combined. We were in for a treat.

Where the hell is Robin? I have not seen a glimpse of my sister since my mom’s bear excitement. Now my mom was picking out golf balls. My mom does not golf. She’s looking quite awake and is becoming very, very chatty. Anyone that walks by is getting an earful. She throws the golf balls at me while I am paying for my items and then plucks some cash out of her tiny-mom purse and hands it to me. Off she goes towards the down escalator. The cashier is trying to tell me my total but I’m too distracted trying to make sure my mom is going to make it down the escalator. As soon my mom’s wee head has gone out of site I turn back to the lady to make my payment.

I take the escalator down. Where did she go? Suddenly, I hear “Amy! Amy? Where are you?” from the front of the store. I move towards the sound of my mom’s excited voice. I find her standing by the bear again. Sigh. “Her husband works for Coke! He’d love a picture of my daughter with the bear!” The guy & girl manning the camera stare at her and then at me. I can feel my face flushing. With an unexpected shove from my own mother, I am now standing by a giant bear. My mom is beaming. I want to cry. Then the bear bites my head as the camera flashes. Mom laughs. I am closer to crying. The camera girl hands my mom the photo ticket and off she goes, practically running to the photo print station upstairs.

Once at the counter there is a man standing there trying to choose which picture he wants. My mom is antsy; bobbing back and forth trying to find my picture. Nervous chatter escapes her as she waits. Finally, it’s her turn. She looks at the pictures and says with glee “That’s my daughter! Isn’t she beautiful?” She sets her giant drink on the counter and starts digging into her purse for cash. I can feel my face has exploded into full lobster state. This full embarrassed blush has not been achieved since high school. My phone rings. It’s Robin asking where we are. I explain what has happened and she laughs, then just hangs up on me. The picture is just awful….but she’s pleased as pie so I tuck it in my bag and escort her back down the escalator while she chatters on about how much Jimmy will like the picture. She’s so cute.

PS - on the plane ride home we were separated so I had to sit with a stranger at the back of the plane while she sat closer to the front by an empty seat. Good old mom, once the seat belt sign was off she scurried back there to see how I was and make sure I was okay. I am 26, married, own property and I have held a job since I was 15…but a mother's worry will never subside regardless of how old I get. I mumble "I'm fine, thank you."

The man beside me gives me a puzzled look as she heads back to her seat. I say in a begrudging tone “That’s my mommy.”