Chicago, The Outtakes

We went to Chicago this past weekend.  I am pulling together a post and I have to say, this was a banner trip, and that is basically because I have a whole lotta outtakes.  Most trips we pull it together pretty well, but like anyone else we all have our… moments… while traveling.  This trip was extra-special, because (1) Pete is six and therefore has developed his own ideas for what is a personal hell, and (2) Linus has hit the Screaming Dictator of Toddlerdom stage.  So anyway, while going through my files I noticed a distinct pattern, and thought I would share.  A ‘normal’ post to come later.

Reasons my boys are angry, the Chicago Edition:

This is the 28th (approx.) colorful wall his mom forced him to stop in front of to take “just a few quick” pictures.


We wouldn’t get him a beer, no matter how many coasters he had.


He whined about wanting to go to the People Face fountain, so we went out of our way to back-track to take him, but then he was mad we didn’t pack his favorite swim trunks, so forget he even mentioned it, GAWD.


I took a picture of him relaxing with dad.


We made him walk to the museum instead of getting a cab.


(In his defense, it was a damned long walk and it was hot Hot HOTTTTTT, LAWDY SO HOT.  Still. He could have been a smidge less dramatic about it.)


We made it to the museum, but it turns out we had to take a different entrance.


Pete went to use the bathroom without him. He threw himself upon the floor, crying loudly, then stopped and toddled over to his crib.  Took out his stuffed carrot, dragged it to his perch outside the bathroom door, then proceeded to continue crying loudly while prone upon the (carrot on the) floor.


At one point they both cried because I took away their new toy dinosaurs at the Field Museum (because they immediately had loud, obnoxious dinosaur fights when I handed them over, because GAWD NEVER HAVE KIDS).  Unfortunately I was too tired at that point to take any photos.  Here is an approximation.

We ordered him his favorite food, French fries. (He threw them.)


Actually: Pete isn’t actually mad in this last photo, instead I had randomly asked him to give me his best Angry Face, because I was curious.  Or bored.  Anyway, he really owned it.

(He has had lots of practice, trust; we made him walk in the heat a LOT.)


That’s pretty much the best of the sourpuss faces, although believe me I could share all night if I didn’t have several other things to do instead.  Off to prep for tomorrow and take a shower; I’ll share more soon.



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