It had been almost 8 weeks since my daughter’s birth, and I had never taken the girl out on the town on my own. What better introduction to the city than the Blues Fest in Grant Park?
I packed my camouflage-colored baby pack (because it’s so manly), loaded up The Cait–as I like to call her–into her Multi-Purpose Mobile Transport System (stroller and separate, detachable car seat) . . . and looked with horror as she had fallen asleep. Hey! You can’t miss this!
Undaunted, I headed over to Grant Park, hoping–and failing miserably–that The Cait would be rudely awakened by the bumps created as the MPMTS rolled along the sidewalks.
That sounds mean, but I wanted my daughter to experience firsthand with me the city that lies outside the windows she’s always staring through.
And she did, when she finally awakened at the fest–while rolling over a smooth patch of street, no less. Her eyes constantly darted around as she caught every sight, including those colorful, joyful, blues-loving characters who show up for this particular event every year.
The Cait seemed to have a good time . . . at least she didn’t cry. Always a good sign.
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