The other day I felt awful because I missed my son's game. I could have made the last quarter, and it would have been a "big effort" as my family likes to say, but I decided against it, and then suffered brutal regret. And then the next day ... I went to the local organic supermarket where I saw a woman pushing a cart while a nanny carried her child, and she asked the nanny in broken Spanish: "Do I need yoghurt? Do I need bread?" The toddler was hugging the nanny and giving her smooches while the mother looked... bored. Don't know the mom; don't know the circumstances; trying not to judge but in that moment, I felt ok that I'd missed one of about 20 games this season, for one of my four boys.