Humble Pie

I am not a big pie fan. Pie is OK, but not something I go out of my way to eat. I'd rather use up calories on something more decadent and satisfying -- like chocolate or coffee with a touch more cream and sugar. So having to eat humble pie is not fun. And that is what I'm munching on today.

You might have noticed that a certain time each month, my blog posts may get a little snarky and short. So follows the rest of my non-blog life (yes I do have a life away from blogging ;) Seriously, I think I should be locked in a cave during this time of the month...... I am a threat to myself and humanity. I read somewhere that certain Native American tribes would actually have lodges set apart for the women where they would go for the duration of their menstruation. When I first read about it, I thought, "How terrible!" Now, I think that might not be a bad idea........except for the part about being locked in a lodge with a bunch of other women in the same mental state as yourself (or worse!). Living in a women's dorm is a close approximation, and I couldn't wait to be free of the dorm. Anyway, back to pie.

So yesterday, after waiting in a doctor's office waiting room for nearly an hour (55 min. to be exact) with four children, I was pushed to the edge of insanity. You try it -- hormones or not. At first I gave them the lecture -- Behave. Don't touch. No bathrooms. No drinking fountains. yadda yadda yadda. After 40 minutes of trying to entertain them with the newspaper and Cooks magazine, I gave up. Go play with the germ ridden toys! Lick the drinking fountain! Run around and scream like banshees! (Maybe we'd get taken back to a room sooner). Luckily I made it out of there without making too many enemies. I did threaten to walk out and reschedule, though. Scary.

So what about the humble pie, you say? Well, when we got back home I made a phone call, felt like I was treated rudely on the phone, responded rudely, and thus today I get to eat humble pie. There is no excuse for being rude, hormones or not. I tell ya though, trying to keep four young kids under control in a waiting room for 55 minutes is like trying to do the same with four dogs in a veterinarian's waiting room. Well sorta -- at least the dogs have collars and leashes! Pie anyone? Yummy-- tastes like cardboard chicken.

Signed, Wendy from the insane asylum of the Palouse.