Updated: Aug 23
We arrived in Chicago and my mother wanted to take us all downtown for lunch on our first day there.
She took the long way into town so we could drive down some of the Northshore and then south down Sheridan Road until taking Lake Shore Drive into the heart of Chicago.
She turned off Lake Shore Drive at Oak Street and parked, saying she thought it would more fun for the kids if we took a water taxi the rest of way.
We all put life jackets on and boarded a large, round orange raft.
I asked my mother who was going to drive the motorized raft and she said that she was and that she had done it dozens of times.
We pulled away from the pier and I firmly held on to my youngest daughter's life jacket as she was the only one of my children who had yet to receive all three of her swimming diplomas.
After a few minutes, we pulled into a harbor downtown near Lake Point Tower and my mother suggested we go to Navy Pier for something to eat as we had some time to kill before our reservation at the restaurant.
We stood in separate lines at a stall that specialized in baked goods and coffee.
The line I was standing in was very long and slow moving, so my mother singled to me that her line was moving very quickly and she would be one of the next customers.
I gave up my place in line and walked around to the other side of the stall where my mother was ordering and told me to tell the man behind the counter what I wanted, indicating to the man that I was with her.
I saw that my mother had ordered a small challah and told her to order me one as well, but that I wanted it sliced lengthwise, toasted and served with butter and salt.
Then I woke up.