Humble Pie

As you’ve probably already heard via my Twitter and Facebook rants:  last Monday, while I was innocently sitting at my desk, someone hit my new car and then took off without even leaving a note. As I jumped through hoop after hoop of inconvenience, and prepared to fork over the insurance deductible (ouch!), I couldn’t help but channel my inner whine. “Whyyyy oh whyyyy is this happening to me?” I pondered. What on earth could be the point of all this, except to make my life miserable?

It just isn’t fun to give someone several hundred dollars for no reason at all. And since our insurance didn’t cover a rental car, I have to drive a borrowed car from in-laws that pre-dates my marriage. Somehow the morning commute just isn’t as much fun when I’m worrying if the car will stall at the next stop light instead of which pre-programmed satellite radio channel I prefer. As I ramble along in the white tank, it *almost* makes me miss my ghetto van. Almost.

And then this morning, as I dodged oncoming cars and potholes on Greendale Road, (think Granny driver who can’t see over the steering wheel), I had an “Ah Ha” moment the likes of which would make Oprah proud. Maybe, just maybe, this was meant to be a lesson.

Could it be that God was sick and tired of listening to me complain (mostly in my head) about my silly First World problems? “Oh, how I wish I could have a rambling historic home in Chevy Chase!” “Why can’t my kids’ school start later–it’s sooo early.”  “I wish we could go somewhere for Fall Break.”  Can’t you just hear the world’s tiniest violin playing for me? (feel free to make the gesture with your fingers–it’s fun) Perhaps I actually needed this great big slice of humble pie.

So, yes, it totally sucks that I have to drive this white piece of crap (sorry Mark–love you, not your car) for the rest of the week. And yes, it is a major bummer that my brand new car will never be the same again–I just feel so violated. And no, I haven’t really enjoyed getting to know my insurance agent this well, although he is a swell guy.

But you know what? I have been reminded that I am blessed beyond measure. I needed to be reminded. And next week, when my biggest problem is trying to decide between the Willie Nelson and the Sinatra all the Time radio stations, I think I’ll take a moment to offer up a little thanksgiving.

Speaking of Thanksgiving–I do prefer Pumpkin Pie to Humble.


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2 responses to “Humble Pie

  1. I followed a link from Skinny Emmie’s blog to yours, and I love your writing style. It’s hilarious and honest and just plain fantastic.

    I prefer pumpkin pie to humble pie, as well. Or any pie, really. Except cherry.