perspective

i was watching the mets game the other night (i know, a risk factor for coronary disease right there), content that they were up 3 runs against the marlins in the 5th inning, and so i went to read molly a book before bed. she chose some richard scarry book with scenes "all around town" or something like that. one particular page was of a fire company (staffed by pigs, as is the norm in richard scarry world) rescuing people (actually foxes) jumping from a burning building. the firepigs were using one of those old rescue trampolines to catch the jumping fox. molly was clearly confused (about the rescue effort, not the pigs-as-firefighters thing), and it took a fair bit of explaining on my part to get her to understand why someone would jump from a building.

this immediately conjured flashbulb memories of those horrific pics of people jumping from the WTC towers before collapse. i couldn't get the image from my head, and quickly turned the page to a nice beach scene with a hippo lifeguard and some bears making sandcastles.

in the time it took me to read that book and get molly to sleep, the mets had blown not one, but two different 3 run leads, and proceeded to lose the game in extra innings. i went to bed seething about the outcome. then my thoughts moved to how frustrated the players must have been, and how they would likely be lying in bed having an even harder time falling asleep than i was.

then my thoughts moved back to that richard scarry book, and the jumping foxes, and the jumping people, and i thought that no matter how frustrated i was about the game, or the players were about the game, that we'd all wake up in the morning, and hug our kids, and go off to another day of work.

perspective.