Monday, June 15, 2009

It was a good weekend, I swear

This past weekend we hit Chicago for a few days in the city and a visit with Chip's grandma Lindh. We thought it high time that Mary Clare meet the 98-year-old firecracker who is one of the three Marys after whom she's named. Overall, everything was great. The drive up on Thursday was a breeze, we had fun tooling around Grant Park, ate some delicious food and watched Mary Clare charm perfect strangers.

There were, however, a few hiccups. All manageable, of course, but when you see everything together, it's kind of funny. Without further ado, it is my pleasure to present you our Chicago calamities:

Water Baby
The Hilton Chicago reopened its pool the day after we checked in, so we were excited to take Mary Clare for her first official dip. I packed her swimming suit and a towel, but what I forgot were the swim diapers. That was an easy enough fix, as there is a Walgreens, CVS or Osco on almost every other corner. Having procured the diapers, we donned our suits and headed down to the pool with everything we could possibly need. It was all very elaborate and well thought out. Mary Clare, however, didn't think much of our plan or the pool, and proceeded to cry whenever anything more than her toes got wet. Thirty minutes later, we were back in the room.

My Eye, My Eye
When Chip and I woke up Saturday morning, he asked how I slept. "Great," I repliced. "But I have pink eye." One quick google search for a Walgreens in Wheeling and a call to my doctor's office, and bingo, I had a prescription waiting for me in Grandma Lindh's town. Oh, and the pink eye cleared up quickly and never spread to my right eye. Thank heavens.

Here's a Little Something for You, Dear Housekeeper
After procuring the prescription and packing up, we left the hotel around 11 a.m. and made our way to Wheeling. We were sitting in traffic on the Ryan expressway when I reached up and realized that my diamond studs were not in my ears, but rather still on the shelf at the hotel. I called the Hilton and Chip turned around the car. A security guard took me up to the room, only to find it had been cleaned. Luckily, the housekeeper found the earrings and had them bagged in her cart. Within 30 minutes of discovering the loss, the earrings were back in my ears, the housekeeper and guard were tipped (with cash this time), and we were back on the road. Best of all, we were still happily married.

Babies Don't Travel Light
Sadly, Chip learned this lesson the hard way. As we packed up to leave Grandma Lindh's place on Sunday, Chip twisted his back on his first trip out to the car. It bothered him, but it was manageable, so we ate breakfast and then set off on our merry way. When we were still 90 minutes away from St. Louis, we stopped to feed Mary Clare. As we walked back to the car, Chip thrust Mary Clare at me and said, "Take her!" His back started spasming and he couldn't catch his breath. Scared the daylights out of me. We finally got in the car, and I quickly convinced Chip to go to urgent care in St. Louis. We called my parents, selected a rendezvous point and passed off Mary Clare so she didn't have to sit at the urgent care clinic with us. Moments after we parted ways, my mom called and informed me that my wallet and glasses were in the diaper bag, so I should drive carefully. Of course. The plus side of this little scenario was that there was no wait at the urgent care center, so we were in and out within 30 minutes, with prescriptions in hand. (Seriously, they have a vending machine that dispenses prescriptions. How cool is that?) Oh, and Chip is feeling much better.

Like I said, it really was a good trip. I think our favorite part was the time we spent with Grandma Lindh. Good Lord, I love that woman. We are eerily similar in some ways, which delights me and scares Chip. She is, after all, what Dos would call a Fem Dem. More on Grandma Lindh and Mary Clare later. I think I've taken up enough of your time for now.

1 comment:

  1. It's shocking how marriage and a kid can warp your perception from "complete disaster" to "good, I swear." They ought to put this story on condom displays.

    Kidding, kidding!

    Or am I?


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