Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Chicago baby style

(as told by Jasper Schoeny: Chicago baby in the know)

You know how the daily grind goes—wake before dawn, pee through your onesie, be on the receiving end of an airplane spoon, rinse and repeat (no, seriously, I have an unbeatable daily bath average).

But sometimes you’ve gotta break out and just let loose, you know? To paraphrase the 1986 classic Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, infancy and toddlerhood move pretty fast. If you don’t stop and get your parents to Instagram you in front of some Chicago landmarks, your wedding slideshow won’t be nearly as impressive.

Sure, Ferris and his pals enjoyed the view from the Sears Tower—oh, excuse me, the Willis—observation deck (233 S. Wacker Drive). But guess what? We’re babies, what do we know about “killer views”?

Save some dough and potentially crazy wait times and take a scenic tour via the CTA Brown Line. “Is that a building? Is that another building? Hey look, a car!” Best part: The Brown Line loops back around, ending us up where we started. Not that it really matters; I was planning on being carried the entire time. Maybe I’ll attempt a backbend from mom’s arms in a tantrum just to keep it fresh.

There’s absolutely something to be said for going to a snooty French restaurant and pretending to be the Sausage King of Chicago, but for my money I’d rather head to Chinatown and smash some dim sum all over my new shirt. My sisters love The Phoenix (2131 S. Archer Ave.) and those ever-rolling carts of delicious pork buns, but I’ll happily go anywhere that I can shove sticky rice into mom’s purse. (You can keep your baby food, city toddlers eat chow mein.)

Cubs Game? You had me at “foot-long hotdog” (sliced and quartered, thanks). But OK, let’s take in a few innings of America’s pastime at Wrigley Field (1060 W. Addison St.) Oh, you didn’t think we’d be staying for the entire nine, did you? That’s adorable. Some words to the wise: Pretty sure you won’t want me catching a fly ball or a drunken bro’s Old Style, so sit a little farther back. Oh, and brace yourself, I’m gonna be all over singing “Take me out to the ballgame.” Have your phone set to record that cuteness.

There’s no way we can top that scene where Ferris and crew visit the Art Institute of Chicago (111 S. Michigan Ave.). Word through the Fisher-Price phone is that they offer monthly stroller tours, and I think we both know how much we love stroller tours. OK, let’s see that “Grande Jatte” business, but save buckets of time for the Thorne Miniature Rooms. I promise I won’t attempt to eat any tiny couches this time. I promise!

Unless they magically become scheduling mavens (and I know for a fact that Mom missed two Moms n’ Tots swim classes last month alone), you won’t get me out to a cool parade this fall. That’s OK. Cart me back home in time for your favorite parade route of the day, the one toward my crib. (And don’t think I can’t hear you singing “Twist and Shout” once the door closes.)

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