One of the so-called "perks" of the March for Babies this year was that everyone who raised at least $25 was given a ticket to the Pirates game. While I generally think I should be paid to bestow my wondrous presence on the Epic Suck that is the Succos, free isn't all that bad of a deal. So, I drug the husband and kid to the game. It was there that I took this photograph:
It's Pittsburgh, reflected perfectly in Alexis' sunglasses.
Later, looking through my photos from the day, it struck me--that photo accurately summarizes what Alexis has done for my relationship with Pittsburgh. She sees it differently than I do, with the wide-eyed wonderment and innocence that comes with being 4-years old.
When she looks at Pittsburgh, she sees big buildings, including one that she says looks like an ice castle and another that she proudly declares is where her daddy works. She doesn't see the homeless people that roam the streets.
When she looks at Pittsburgh, she sees the home of most of the people that she loves dearly. She doesn't see the corruption and stupidity that run rampant through the city government.
When she looks at Pittsburgh, she sees fun. She thinks of the joy of splashing in the Water Stairs, the rush of bike riding along the Eliza Furnace Trail, and the wonderment of all that is the Cultural District. She doesn't see deficits and unemployment and high taxes.
When she looks at PNC Park, she sees the home of her favorite baseball team, the Pittsburgh Pirates. If you ask her if they're going to win, she always says, "Yes!" Her devotion comes straight from her heart, a product of her self-built love for all that is Pittsburgh. If you don't believe me, just know that Mr. Husband is even more cynical about the Pirates' hopes for a half-decent season than I am. She believes in the Pirates despite the fact that her parents do not.
When Alexis sees Pittsburgh, she sees perfection. Thanks to her, I am constantly reminded to see it the same way.