This is an experience I will share- albeit a little shamefully- about my service morning in Kirkland with Chanelle. It's funny how things have a way of getting back at you sometimes. Today I learned that humility overrules humor at the most inconvenient of times.
Our morning started off cheerfully despite the light drizzle of notorious Puget Sound weather. Clouds gathered overhead but we marched cheerfully to our car group shielding the literature from any stray rain drops, should they try and sneak their way through our guard. I sat up front with Chanelle, breathlessly greeted the brothers who had kindly sacrificed their front seats for us, and the morning began.
We weren't three calls into the ministry when it was established that the almost-illustrious coffee break was in order. So we parked outside of QFC and went in search for a Starbucks pick-me-up.
Chanelle detoured to pick up string cheese- you know, the little three-bite pieces of mozzarella for Lunchables and whiny toddlers- claiming near starvation due to lack of breakfast. Then, armed with her two string cheeses, she promptly informed me that she was also going to get a roll to have with them.
So I took a look at the Starbucks menu while she went hunting for those. When she came back, I did a double-take. She was carrying an entire baguette!
"I'm guessing they didn't have bread rolls?" I asked, raising an eyebrow almost mockingly. She said they did not. She said that she still wanted to have some bread to enjoy with her cheese.
I quickly pointed out that her ratio of bread to cheese was way off, but that didn't phase my apparently bread-ravenous Aunt. So we got our coffees, picked up the change, and resumed service as before.
Well I just couldn't stop teasing her about that baguette. My witty repertoire would not be exhausted. Even the guys in the back seat were chiming in after a while, asking if she might want a gallon or two of wine to go with her bread and cheese.
"If this were France or Italy, no one would be questioning me at all," Chanelle grumbled, ripping off a chunk.
The brothers in the back seat called on a man at roughly 11:45, and that was the turning point, because that call seriously lasted an hour. The clock stretched all the way to 12:40, and then I heard it.
Grumble... grumble...
My stomach was sounding the alarm. A none-to-gentle reminder that I hadn't eaten since the small bowl of oatmeal earlier in the morning. I tried to ignore it at first, my dignity too stubborn to let reality sink in, but eventually I had to give in. And so, turning humbly towards Chanelle, I dropped my head in shame.
"Is there any of that baguette left?"
A symphony of trumpets could not have competed against the sound of my aunt's laughter ringing mercilessly. I then proceeded to scarf down roughly a third of the baguette which was left. For the rest of the time I remained totally silent, bitterly cursing my feeble stomach.
So I guess you could say I learned a lesson in humility. If ever there was anything I could advise you, it would be this-
Never underestimate the power of irony.
Our morning started off cheerfully despite the light drizzle of notorious Puget Sound weather. Clouds gathered overhead but we marched cheerfully to our car group shielding the literature from any stray rain drops, should they try and sneak their way through our guard. I sat up front with Chanelle, breathlessly greeted the brothers who had kindly sacrificed their front seats for us, and the morning began.
We weren't three calls into the ministry when it was established that the almost-illustrious coffee break was in order. So we parked outside of QFC and went in search for a Starbucks pick-me-up.
Chanelle detoured to pick up string cheese- you know, the little three-bite pieces of mozzarella for Lunchables and whiny toddlers- claiming near starvation due to lack of breakfast. Then, armed with her two string cheeses, she promptly informed me that she was also going to get a roll to have with them.
So I took a look at the Starbucks menu while she went hunting for those. When she came back, I did a double-take. She was carrying an entire baguette!
"I'm guessing they didn't have bread rolls?" I asked, raising an eyebrow almost mockingly. She said they did not. She said that she still wanted to have some bread to enjoy with her cheese.
I quickly pointed out that her ratio of bread to cheese was way off, but that didn't phase my apparently bread-ravenous Aunt. So we got our coffees, picked up the change, and resumed service as before.
Well I just couldn't stop teasing her about that baguette. My witty repertoire would not be exhausted. Even the guys in the back seat were chiming in after a while, asking if she might want a gallon or two of wine to go with her bread and cheese.
"If this were France or Italy, no one would be questioning me at all," Chanelle grumbled, ripping off a chunk.
The brothers in the back seat called on a man at roughly 11:45, and that was the turning point, because that call seriously lasted an hour. The clock stretched all the way to 12:40, and then I heard it.
Grumble... grumble...
My stomach was sounding the alarm. A none-to-gentle reminder that I hadn't eaten since the small bowl of oatmeal earlier in the morning. I tried to ignore it at first, my dignity too stubborn to let reality sink in, but eventually I had to give in. And so, turning humbly towards Chanelle, I dropped my head in shame.
"Is there any of that baguette left?"
A symphony of trumpets could not have competed against the sound of my aunt's laughter ringing mercilessly. I then proceeded to scarf down roughly a third of the baguette which was left. For the rest of the time I remained totally silent, bitterly cursing my feeble stomach.
So I guess you could say I learned a lesson in humility. If ever there was anything I could advise you, it would be this-
Never underestimate the power of irony.
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