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Mommy

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Mom

Mom arrived in Vegas yesterday. I went to pick her up at the airport straight after work, since my job on the strip is just a couple of miles away.

It was lovely to see her again. She was, as always, well-dressed in cute casual clothing with fun accessories, hair and makeup looking fresh and new. Suzanne and I always admire that about her, how she’s always perfect. Suzanne is like Mom that way, she always looks so great and put-together. I, on the other hand, somewhere took the wrong exit off the “Put-Together” highway. With me it’s more of a crash and a coincidence if I even manage to get it right.

We had some nice time to chat and catch up, just the two of us, on the way home, before she greeted the Clarks. I pointed out to her the hotel on the strip where I’m working. We talked about the cartoony countours of the famous hotels, the mountains, the palm trees and the smutty advertisements everywhere in Vegas, all of which I have now grown used to but still not taken for granted.

Mom asked me if I enjoyed having a car in Las Vegas as opposed to being a subway commuter in Boston. That comment really made me think for a moment about the last time mom came to visit. I was still living in Brighton with Ariana, and Mom and I took the T everywhere, on trips into the city, to little local cafes, and to and from the airport. I suppose it was a simple question, but it kind of struck me as a comparison of my life in Las Vegas versus Boston. Things were so different last time when Mom came to visit, it was rainy and cold. Inclement weather makes Boston seem so very stoic, even though it’s not. The lack of rain and the gorgeous sunny warmth out here in Las Vegas makes this time’s visit, for me, anyway, seem a bit more carefree.

We arrived to hugs and squirmy dogs back home, and stayed around for a little conversation and to watch the kids demonstrate their new tricks on the trampoline. “Nana, watch me!”

We went to dinner at the Irish pub in Jay’s hotel. I always forget the name of it but the food is scrumptious, even though I’m not a huge fan of Irish food. Mom and I both got fish and chips, which are said to be the finest in town.

During dinner, she ran her fingers through my hair and patted me on the back once or twice absently, while chatting with my sister. A simple, typical gesture of my mother, but the small bit of affection made me feel so loved. It is great to have Mommy around once again, if just for a little while.

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Written by pocheco

April 4, 2007 at 8:17 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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