Mission: Possible

So it's 8:50 on a typical Saturday morning, and we're all sitting around in our pajamas reading (note: this picture was not entirely staged; the boys were really reading together) and Dave says, "What do you think about the crazy idea of just taking off and getting on a train and heading down to San Juan Capistrano for the day?" And I say, "OK!" and Dave takes off for downstairs, books us some tickets on the computer, and by 9:04 we are out the door, headed downtown to catch the 9:40 to San Juan Capistrano.

Of course this is an entirely ridiculous plan, because even if the traffic is perfect, and you make it to Union Station almost in time, you still have to park the car, and make sure everything fits in the diaper bag, and get Zach in the umbrella stroller, and help Luke fix his pants so they're not falling down, and put the ticket receipt into the little scanner so actual Amtrak tickets come out. But you have to give us an A for effort. We made it to the track just as the train was pulling away. And it was fine, in the end, because then we had an hour until the next train to wander around and enjoy Union Station -- which is really quite magnificent and seemingly underused -- and plan future trips.

When it was time for the next train, we made our way over to the tracks and you could feel the excitement building. I love this picture of Luke because he had just finished saying, "This is the most perfect train in the world!"

Once we got on board it was even better because we had one of those double-decker trains and we got a great seat upstairs with a table, and we made good use of the snack car, and we saw lots of things out the window that the boys enjoyed (other trains, backhoes, airplanes, boxcars, trash trucks, etc.). By the time we got to the mission, that trip seemed almost incidental. We just wandered around the grounds, looked at a few things, and soon it was time to get back on the train, which was OK because that was the cool part anyway. Zach slept the whole way home and I imagine that's how he would ideally like to sleep all the time - in my arms, being rocked by the gentle motion of the train chugging along the tracks.

Oh, and by the way, Dave is my ideal husband. Is that pretty clear by now?