In Las Vegas, as I sit at the gate awaiting boarding, I can't help but listen to the delightful little girl chatting with her father behind me, her darling squeaky voice rattling off her opinions about the silly people before us who obviously aren't winning at the electronic slot machines, yet they continue anyway, and don't they know these machines are electronic and probably programmed never to arrive at 777?
Her accommodating and loving father pacifies her, softly reassuring her that taking the chance at winning money is fun for adults, to which she retorts with sure conviction, "Son locos, Papà."
And her father and I smile at each other, nodding our heads.
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