My dad totally blew stuff up. He made his own nitroglycerin at a shocking young age (he used to climb up on a ladder with a cap of it (!) and use an eyedropper to "bomb" toy cars.) . He filled his basement with chlorine gas, bleaching all the laundry my grandmother was drying down there. And burned down a cornfield.

My love for sarameg's dad grows and grows, as does my awe at his survival.

There was no big excitement in my walking to school by myself in suburban Chicago, because we lived across the street. My mother's rule was that we either told her where we were going or stayed within shouting range. From the time I was about 7, I walked five blocks away every week to spend my allowance on comic books and penny candy.

Seriously. Also - the CTA goes out to Wilmette? Huh. Is that the Purple Line? I think Tom takes that train.

It's part of the Evanston Express. . . whatever line that is.

as does my awe at his survival.

Yeah, that too. Whenever I react with the omgcrazy face, he's like "It was experiments! I was really careful!" Yeahbut.

Oh, yup. He wouldn't be going that far north though. Or wearing a bacon bra. Presumably.

Purple line express has a Linden stop, yeah.

Linden is the final stop on that line.

the CTA goes out to Wilmette? Huh. Is that the Purple Line?

Yep, and yep. Linden is the last stop (furthest North).

I think Tom takes that train.

I take it fairly often. But sometimes I take a bus to or from the Red Line Howard station directly to work.

(My commute is endlessly fascinating, let me tell you....)

eta: Purple line x-posty....

Honey - ship her here for two weeks this summer. When you have her back, she'll be potty trained.

She lost interest in it SO completely after a promising start. I blame her father. (What? I can do that!)

I pretty much only use Red, Blue, and Brown.