Last Thursday, my daughter, Gwen, and I rolled our bleary-eyed, sorry selves out of our nice warm beds about three hours before the crack of dawn and trudged our way to the airport like zombies. I-pod-toting, Skechers-donning, gum-popping, tired, cranky, don’t-talk-to-me zombies. Why? ‘Cuz we had a date with Scope in Chicago, of course!
We grunted and plodded our way through airport security at 5 am and then had two hours to kill before our flight. Setting up camp on the airport floor was mighty tempting, but—eh—we figured we’d have breakfast first.
So, there we were a little restaurant in the ‘port, having found ourselves a nice, cozy window seat, watching the sky morphing from black to navy blue while we noshed and slowly de-zombified, when suddenly we saw something so shocking it sent me into a giggling fit of epic spazzy proportions which startled all the other sleepy zombies nursing cups of coffee at nearby tables and made me dive for my camera.
What did we see? This….
Uh-huh. The pilot of the plane right outside our window opened the plane’s windshield, hoisted himself out of it, and Windexed the thing before takeoff! Ummmmm….. call me naive, but I had no idea plane windshields could roll down like that, did you? I dunno, that’s just wrong somehow.
Wrong, but funny!
Soon we were boarding our plane (and suspiciously sniffing around for a whiff of Windex) and then *POOF* we were landing in Chicago!
(Well, okay, fine. Maybe, technically, it was a little more than a *POOF*, alright? But as I slept 3/4 of the flight, it definitely had a *POOF* quality; a *POOF* essence; and a *POOF*-iosity to me.)
Scope was waiting for us and towering impressively over the
riffraff rest of the crowd just beyond security, and soon the three of us were locked in the first of the many, many, many group hugs of which our weekend was made.
We collected our bags and hit the road in Scope’s PT Cruiser and almost immediately found ourselves face-to-rear with this….
Yeah. That’s right. Cora’s Predator! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! But wait—let’s take a closer look, shall we?….
Of course, good bloggers that we are, we tailed Cora’s Predator for quite some time; me brandishing my camera so we could get a good picture of it just for YOU.
We went to Bennigan’s for lunch and then waltzed across the street to the museum at the Art Institute of Chicago….
….which Gwen (oh, alright, fine—maybe it was me, happy now?!) was super-excited about because Ferris, Cameron and Sloane had once set foot in there!
We got all artsy fartsy….
We snapped many a picture….
And we saw a vast array of amazing work, including the famous A Sunday on La Grande Jatte by Georges Seurat….
(Yep, and that spectacular Scope of mine is holding my purse. Ain’t he a sweetie? *le sigh*)
And, looky here! Just in time for Mother’s Day, YOU can adopt a dot on the Seurat and show your mama that she’s “one in a million”! *snicker*
We posed like American Gothic….
….which, ever the giggletastic ball of dorkiness that I am, I just simply could NOT pull off with a straight face!
And, much to Gwen’s horror and disgust, we saw a plethora of naked butts everywhere we turned (!!!!)….
(Tee hee hee! That last one is my favorite!)
Seeing all those butts burned Gwen’s eyes. Clearly….
….or maybe she was just tired. ;-)
So Scope took us back home and the three of us cuddled up on the couch all family-like and we watched Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone until it was time for bed.
And it was bliss.
[….to be continued….]
© Love Letters By Cora