No-tell Motel

We got lost in Chicago (big surprise) and ended up in a No-tell Motel of Super 8 in Lansing, south of the city. They snuck in the dogs for us, which was great, but all they had was a smoking room, which made me cough all night. The dogs pissed all over the room, too, because a drug dealer set up shop outside and Scott didn't want to hang around back there. They offered high speed internet, but the connection was so bad it didn't work. We DID order a fabulous Chicago deep-dish pizza, though.

In the morning, plans with friends fell through and we drove onward toward Iowa where plans with another friend were successful. We met up with my friend Holly and her daughter Charlotte and husband Shane. Charlotte was awesome. She wanted to hold my hand when we were walking and got me sucked into carrying her, too. She gave Mary lots of hugs and kisses, but did also kick her in the nose once.

Afterward, we drove onward again. Just past Des Moines we hit some terrible weather. Shortly after, once we'd cleared the storm cell, the emergency broadcast system came over the radio warning of tornado activity in the area we'd just been. Fun! Around this time Romeo also pissed himself in the car. He was desperately asking out and doing everything he could, but the last time we stopped for him the baby woke up and screamed for an hour. She needed her sleep. Poor Romeo ended up losing bladder control at my feet, onto the rubber mat. We apologized to him and told him he was a good boy.

We're in for the night at a Motel 6 in western Iowa. Their high speed internet doesn't work in the rooms. Lame. They've also got rules posted everywhere. Take off your muddy shoes. Don't open the window. And they're going to inspect the room before we check out. The TV is tiny, too.

Tomorrow we'll start to head north to South Dakota.