Eating Humble Pie

There are times when life affirms us; there are times when we are reminded there is no hat big enough to wear on our ego.


Last week I had a gentle and made-me-laugh experience of the latter.

My wife and I had a few hours with two of our grandchildren and went to play in a park.  They used their rich imaginations and turned a Jungle-Jim/monkey bars into, as they put it, a "rescue bus."  The scenario they created was that Nana and Papa were in a horrible car wreck.  (Aren't they beautiful kids?)  Their mission was to rescue us and save our lives.  Nana and I were moaning and groaning in life-threatening fashion. I made it clear that we could possibly die if they didn't get us to the ER asap.  "Mary" responded by slapping a band-aid on my hand.  Ok. I'm feeling relieved already.


"Mary" and younger brother "Chad"  assisted us into the rescue bus and Mary hopped into the driver's seat.  I was yelling, "Hurry! Hurry!"  She took off and we were en-route to the hospital.  Suddenly, she said,  "Oops.  We have to turn in here."   I screamed, "What's going on?!?   Why are you turning here?!?"  She replied, " It's the Kentucky Fried Chicken drive-thru."


I know it's gotta be an agonizing decision--KFC or grandma and grandpa dying--but REALLY?


I am feeling much more humble lately.  And I'm boycotting KFC.