I’m a big-picture gal. If necessary, I can focus on nitty gritty details, but generally speaking I don’t operate that way. Take today for example. We have seven kids playing softball or t-ball this summer on three different teams. On a game night I generally aim at getting everyone to the fields on time, in (correct) uniforms with their gloves, having eaten dinner. Tonight was no exception. Kia and Josiah were the only ones playing so it should have been fairly easy.
I actually thought for a moment things were going as planned. Dinner was eaten. We arrived at the fields on time without forgetting anyone at home or inadvertently bringing a stowaway kitty with us. Both boys had their uniforms on, and I chose to overlook Kia’s sweatpants with the muddy knees and backside and Josiah’s choice of a button-down plaid dress shirt to wear underneath his team t-shirt. I even figured Josiah wearing his regular sneakers, instead of his cleats because his cleats couldn’t be found, was acceptable. Of course I couldn’t linger too long on the reality and irony that although Josiah has been wearing his cleats non-stop for the past two weeks, he couldn’t locate them for the very thing his cleats were intended.
That’s all water under the bridge, I thought. I’m a big-picture gal.
My big-picture perspective might have been ok if I hadn’t noticed Josiah hitching up his pants as he ran from the van to join his gathering teammates. Sighing, I noticed he was wearing the green sweatpants with the broken buckle that I repeatedly keep throwing away and my overly “helpful” children keep retrieving from the garbage. The broken buckle is hardly the biggest problem with those pants, however. The greater concern is they are WAY too big for Josiah and literally do not stay up on my skinny-no-hips boy.
Catching up with him at the softball field, I tried to roll down the waistband, hoping to keep the pants around his waist, rather than his ankles. And that’s when I noticed the next little overlooked detail. My sweet little boy had no underwear on. If you know Josiah at all, you know this isn’t too surprising. He is the kid who proudly proclaims on certain rare days “It’s Underwear Day” (or occasionally “Inside-Out-Underwear-Days”). If it isn’t Underwear Day you can pretty much count on him going Commando. Today clearly wasn’t Underwear Day. It didn’t require much imagination to picture Josiah running to first base after his first hit, with his green sweatpants falling to his ankles leaving only his bare backside to weather the cool winds.
Shoes without laces from http://ow.ly/4XYP6
Praying a quick silent prayer my vision wouldn’t become reality, I refocused on his untied shoelace. Upon helping him tie a double knot, I discovered the next little overlooked detail. While Josiah’s one shoe had a neatly tied double-knot, the other shoe didn’t even have a shoelace. Oh my. I’m quite sure the shoelace is somewhere in our house. And I’m also quite sure it is being well-used to pull a truck, tie sticks together, or hang a recent masterpiece.
I suppose the rest of the evening improved from there. The boys and I ran quickly to the van so Kia and Josiah could switch pants. Josiah’s pants didn’t fall down, nor did his shoe come off. However, his shoe coming off just might have improved his overall playing. It might have interrupted his concentrated efforts at digging holes in the infield dirt, or spinning circles while supposedly playing shortstop. The funny thing is I think he has the same big-picture gift as I do. After all, why focus on little details like getting the ball, running to first base instead of third, or putting your ball glove on your hand? He’s a big-picture guy!
