Papa C is a good Papa. I think everyone who knows me knows this by now. So, being the good papa he is, he treated the entire fam to the big Giants vs. A’s game at AT&T park tonight. We drove into the city and enjoyed the game from 17 rows up from the third base line. It was an exciting game with the Giants losing 5-3 in the 10th inning. It was dissapointing that our Giants lost, but the rivalry was good and the “Battle of the Bay” brought out fans from both sides, each rooting passionately for their teams. It was a perfectly good night.
Until we got back to the car. We had parked the car with valet, so my sister and I went down to get the car while the rest of our family paid. As we were walking to our car a man walked up to us, asked us which car was ours, and informed us that we needed to go to the office because the car had been broken into. It’s funny, because I don’t even think we have keys to our house. We never lock our house and it has never been broken into. But my dad’s car is really nice with a great alarm system, and for the first time we experienced what it feels like to be robbed. All that was stolen was my sister’s purse, which was actually quite a big deal.
What was beautiful about it all was to see my family react. It encouraged my heart to watch as my dad got down and began cleaning out the glass shards with his bare hands so we could ride home safely, to see my mom offer to sit in the seat next to the broken window because she was wearing a big puffy jacket that could handle any leftover glass shards, to watch my sister take care of dealing with the valet and filling out the report, and see my brother-in-law comfort her, cancel all her cards, and help lighten the mood.
By the end of the night we were laughing together as we gave situations that could have been worse. At one point my sister said, “At least I’m not the person who is so desperate that I have to steal to get some quick money.” I pointed out that Nordstrom’s half-yearly sale is going on so it’s the perfect time to replace a good purse. My brother-in-law started joking about how his family used to get their cars broken into monthly. I really love my family. It was a tragically beautiful end to our night.