Time for a Road Trip: Taking Chicago!

Grandma & Grandpa Pfaff

It's been two and a half years since the girls and I have visited family in Chicago. For John, though, it's only been two weeks--Aunt Jeanne and Uncle Jim rescued him from O'Hare and took him in for a day until it was time for his rescheduled flight to Vienna.  It's good to know we have family...and I don't just mean people who share common genetics, but FAMILY--people who love you so much they don't think twice before agreeing to come get you at the airport and make up a bed for you.  We moved from Illinois when I was five, but my family up here wasn't left behind.  There's something about being a Pfaff; it's a legacy of sorts.  We are all crazy and it's the particular brand of hilarious, adventurous, crazy that tends to glue us all together.  We all have different names, of course.  Some of us started out Gamelin's, Eichorst's or Hammond's, but it all comes back to Grandma and Grandpa Pfaff. They're the anchors in this crazy old family. My mom and her sisters are now the main driving force in this group and my siblings and cousins have all just learned to roll with the tide, laughing (or crying) as much as possible in between.  

These three have shown me what "sisters" were meant to be.

Overall, our trip to the States was already crazy, but I knew I couldn't come all the way across the ocean without seeing these guys.  So, a few days before our flight from Midway to DC, Mom, Dad, Joe, Catherine, the girls, and I all set out on a road trip to Chicago.

A ROAD. TRIP. 

B and Catherine bond over PIE!

I hadn't given it much thought until we were already on the road, but I MISSED ROAD TRIPS.  This is something so American...in the best meaning of the word.  I have traveled these same roads so many times, visiting family, taking Emily to and from college, watching cousins graduate or get married...It's a route I know well. And unless you're my father, who likes to try to beat his previous record time for the trip, you know that road trips aren't just about the end destination, but everything in between.   This time we stopped by Joe's old Alma Mater in Rolla, MO...and at a famous Rolla pie shop too...just because, well, we were already passing by, so why not?    

My parents volunteered to take the girls in their car for the 8-ish hour drive while I tagged along with Joe and Catherine.  This, in itself, was amazing.  The last time I traveled without kids was when I met Mom and Emily in Scotland.  "Luxurious" is the word you're looking for.  I could've been crammed into a clown car and I wouldn't have minded as long as no one pestered me for snacks and asked five million questions.  Also, I got to sleep whenever I wanted to.  GLORIOUS!!  

Soon enough, we were enjoying the hospitality of my Aunt and Uncle--listening as the girls exclaimed at all of Uncle Jim's amazing "guys" (The sculptures he creates mostly from stuff he finds at yard sales) and stuffing our faces with Italian beef sandwiches.  I love Aunt Jeanne and Uncle Jim's house. It has held nothing but happy memories for me. I adore watching the main room convert from a banquet hall to an extra bedroom, littered with mattresses across the floor to accommodate everyone, or even a dance floor...but I'll get to that later.  

Every time we visit, we're taken on "The Tour" of Mom, Chris, and Jeanne's childhood haunts. This time was no different...scratch that...The Tour is different every time.  This time, I gained some fantastic insight into the particular window sill under which Aunt Jeanne and Mom would sit to eat popsicles during the Summer...and since it was daylight, breaking into the Frank Lloyd Wright house was entirely out of the question. It's gems like these that keep you coming back for more.  Also, the ice cream.  It's the ultimate reward for surviving The Tour.  This time we ended up at Red Mango, where Audrey got EVERY TOPPING they had.      

Heaven in a bun with a side of fries

We also stopped by Penzy's Spices, where I mostly wandered around cursing the already over-packed state of my luggage. Salvation from that torture arrived soon, though, in the form of a burger and fries from Five Guy's.  People, Austrians have NO IDEA how to make a proper hamburger...and we don't have a grill, so I can't make one either (let's just leave out the fact that I would also somehow have to figure out how to make hamburger buns).  The point is: I have been deprived of decent burgers for far too long.  I only stopped inhaling that sucker long enough to take a picture, because I knew it would be the hamburger memory to sustain me for the rest of our time in Vienna.  

Bonus candid photo

Although we missed out on seeing some of our family since we were only in town for a day and a half, we did get to meet up with quite a few people for a fantastic dinner that night, complete with deep dish pizza.  By this time, Bailey and Henry had obviously had enough time to bond and become instant buddies.  The Bear rode to the restaurant with him and they sat together at dinner too.  By far, the best moment at dinner was when Bailey took a break from reading her wine menu to yell at my notoriously loud Uncle Bill to be quiet.  I don't think he even heard her, but our end of the table got a good laugh out of it...particularly because Bailey could give him a run for his money in the volume department.   

Pizza, the way God surely intended it.

The next day we were headed to the airport, so this day with family was really our big hurrah and Jeanne ended it on an epic note with a glow-in-the-dark dance party.  The kids danced like crazy until eventually it was time for jammies (and goblets of milk for some who shall remain nameless) I was worn out in the best way possible.  It must be something about the whole best-family-ever thing, but we managed to fit so much GOOD and RIGHT and HAPPY and TOGETHER into just one day.  Whatever Grandma and Grandpa Pfaff infused into this family, there was surely a little magic to it, because there's really no other explanation.