What happens in Vegas goes right on the blog.

The people of Vegas are not like you and me.

This is a place where the skirts are smaller than some belts I own.

And what would be considered a wardrobe malfunction anywhere else is, in fact, a deliberate style choice.

This is a place where it's not unusual to see a sign reading THIS WAY TO THE BARRY MANILOW STORE.

And people are actually following it.

The hottest towel north of Havana.

I'm here with my Cool Mom Picks colleagues Kristen and Julie and pretty much the entire juvenile product industry for a trade show, and in less than 18 hours, we've already gawked and giggled and pointed and gawked some more, enough to last us the whole week.

If you've ever wanted to know where acid washed jean shorts go to die? Where peroxide is a commodity? Where I am apparently the only person who doesn't know what a Bumpit is?

It's Vegas.

God I love it here.