Descent into madness

I'll say this about our overnight trip to Chicago — we're better prepared then most when the apocalypse happens.

Steve and I have a long and storied history of not doing things like other people. Instead of driving in a nice air conditioned car, we take a crowded train. Instead of taking cabs, we take the subway. Instead of being normal, we insist the modern conveniences that make our country great are a practice in excess.

And so when we take pictures before we board the train, and Steve said now starts our descent into madness, he knows what he's talking about.

Our trip was mostly great. We ate at great restaurants, had fun with the girls, enjoyed the sites. But when we had to leave our favorite restaurant early because the screaming girls refused to eat (and they ALWAYS eat at Frontera, because the food is THAT good) and I was left alone to scarf my sustainable seafood while choking back tears, you know the descent has begun.

Thanks goodness for the margaritas.

And here's the kicker. There was a couple on our train with two girls (5 and 3) who were obviously video watching, minivan driving, American Girl type people. After thoroughly judging them because they both stole our elevator and our prime seats, they saved our ass by inviting our girls to watch a movie with their girls on the trip home. And to boot, they were incredibly friendly.

Turns out we are not superior. We're just a stinky, tired family whose long road to crazy was much shorter than expected.

Now, see our photos.