When I heard the news on the radio this afternoon that the Chilean miners trapped down underground for 68 days (68 days!) would finally start coming out, I was absolutely reduced to tears. I was driving at the time, and quickly jammed my sunglasses onto my face so other drivers wouldn't think I was weird (because we all pay so much attention to what other people look like in their cars, right?). I also remembered my super sweet mantra that I've adopted to get my bearings in situations like these. Repeat after me, "watermelon, pickles, potato salad, limes." Works every time. I got that one out of a magazine, and you're welcome.
Tonight I tried to explain to my kids what was going on as we watched the coverage on CNN. (Anderson Cooper, how do you manage to cover something like this live, and not even tear up? You must be using my mantra.) I compared the ordeal to being trapped on an airplane for two months, with food and a little t.v., but no windows or fresh air, no friends or family, no showers for anyone or probably even toothbrushes. Oh yeah, and it's 90 degrees and everyone around you just stripped down to their skivvies. I'm kind of going looney just thinking about it, let alone live it! For real! Rachel said she could probably take it for five days. I said I'd be nuts after about 16 hours. I'm not even sure I could make it to Australia now after thinking about it like this.
But when I saw that capsule finally break the surface, and the first miner came out, I think I cried harder than his own wife! That's just me though (watermelon, pickles...).
Anyway, I just wish a little peace for these guys and their families, their brave rescuers, and all the people that helped drill that crazy tunnel. I hope they get really rich from interviews, and book and movie deals, and that they never have to go underground again. Because if I were one of them, I wouldn't even go in my basement.
Gotta go - the third one is about to come up!! Pass the hankies!