I live in California but have covered Vegas as a solo traveler for nearly 20 years-writing and updating 13 guidebooks on the destination along the way-but was nervous to visit for the first time with kids. Her question made me laugh but also put my mind at ease. Understandably, the sustained excitement was starting to catch up with my middle child: “Dad,” she asked, “can you feel hungover from too much fun?” They’d also been wandering casinos (while kids can’t linger in designated gaming areas, an informal “keep moving” policy generally lets them pass through casino floors). She and her sisters-at the time, ages 10 and 3.5, respectively-had spent the past days chilling in ice bars, ogling tigers, and drinking decadent milkshakes with slices of cake on top. On the morning of our fourth day in this desert metropolis, my then-7-year-old daughter woke up in a haze.
