When I was about 7 or 8 years old I inadvertantly left my baseball glove in Chicago's Lincoln park. Mom wouldn't let me hear the end of it. I was chastised and yelled at for a day and a half before my anger spilled over and I yelled, "Well, at least I never lost anything alive !" Everyone went nuts and wanted to know what I was talking about. When my mother was yonger, before I'd been born, she had, as I was always told, "LOST A CHILD." My outburst was a direct result of a young and clueless youth's evaluation of an event that was actually incomprehensible to him/me.

conclusion:

It's all relative.

Art Thieme