My son Michael had some expiring travel credit with United Airlines and suggested we go away together for a few days. We tossed around a few destination ideas before settling on Las Vegas—a city we hadn’t visited together in 20 years. Back then, we traveled with a group of Mike’s friends and their dads, all (the friends, not the dads) having recently turned 21. This time would just be the two of us.

We discussed a few things we would like to do in “Sin City”, made reservations for a hotel in the middle of the Strip, and hit the friendly skies last Tuesday morning.

We packed a lot into 48 hours: a big win on a free slot machine play, an introduction to the game of Pai Gow Poker, sunning at the hotel pool, and splitting a steak at Mike’s favorite Vegas steakhouse.

We walked north and south along the strip, visiting a dozen casinos. For a break, we took a longer-than-expected Uber journey to reach an over-filled miniature golf course, where the manager apologized for the unexpected crowd by offering us free ice cream, coffee flavor for both of us.

And there were shows. Shin Lim’s sleight of hand was incredible, but by the end of 90 minutes, the magic routine started to feel, well, routine. On the other hand, there was nothing routine about the U2 movie at the Sphere. Bono has never been more Bono, and the band never rocked so hard as when projected on a screen the size of the Titanic. I’ll count this as the 5th time I have seen the boys “live.”

Throughout the two days, Michael and I talked. We talked about family trips when he and his sister Laury were small; about travel we hope to enjoy in the future; about friends; about music, and about relationships.

Towards the end of the walkabout, Michael asked me what my favorite parts of the trip were. I mentioned U2, great steak, and my gambling winnings (not mentioning the losses). When I asked him the same question, his response was shorter than mine. He said, “My favorite thing was spending time together.”

In that moment, the noise of the casinos and flashing lights faded into the background. It wasn’t about the shows or the wins—it was about us.

My son is a mensch. I couldn’t be happier, or prouder.