Humble Pie: A guest blog

I am blessed with knowing some pretty amazing and diverse people in my life, and I thought it would be interesting to ask them to guest blog here for a change of voice.

Below is a guest blog from my sister, Charlotte, who is currently at UVic with rocks in her head. (Geology) Interesting to see a 21-year old's perspective.

Humble Pie: the perfect addition to an entrée of Eating-Your-Words

If you secretly love to watch someone else eat their words, put their foot in their mouth, and munch on some fresh baked humble pie – hang out with me. You’ll be saying “Told you so…” more often than Canadians apologize.

I’m a geology student most of the time, and an attitude-filled know-it-all the rest of the time. I have a condition called ‘Know-it-all-ism”. This is an affliction that one mainly associates with high school teenagers and brown-nosers of various ages. Unfortunately for this group, their taste for humble pie doesn’t develop until later in their teens. Me, on the other hand, I’ve had my fair share of this particular kind of dessert and have grown accustomed to its bitter taste and gritty texture.

The most recent outbreak of my ‘condition’ occurred just this past week when I was so kindly given the use of my dad’s car while he was on vacation.

Ten days into my blissful stint of having a car, it breaks.

Being a scientist I immediately jump into ‘blame-it-on-some-kind-of-law-or-theory-or-whatever’ mode. It’s usually Newton or Einstein, but this time I chose Murphy. Yup. Murphy’s law has struck again. Give the kid the car, and it’ll break.

Because of my ‘condition’, I tend to forget the fact that parents usually DO know more than I do. I just go about doing what I think is best, no matter what anyone says. In this case, I decided that the brain power of myself and my friends combined far outweighed that of my parents. What do they know? They couldn’t hear the car and the funny noises it was making! They didn’t see what it was doing and what it was not doing! Silly adults.

Some friends came over on difference occasions to take a look at it, and when they heard the sound it was making each exclaimed “the starter motor!” Trusting and caring for my friends as much as I do, I believed them (keep in mind that I have no idea what a starter motor is or where to locate it).

Cue argument and ‘know it all’ outbreak.

Parents: “It’s the battery!”
Me: “It’s the starter motor! It’s what my friends said, and I don’t want to talk to you about it right now because you’re not even in the country and you can’t hear the car!”
Parents: “It’s the battery…. Call BCAA”
Me: “No! It’s NOT the battery! Why aren’t you listening to me…!?”
(this argument continues for about three days until my parents finally start to give up)
Me: “It’s the starter motor! I’ve called the tow truck and they’re on their way”
Parents: “Cancel the tow truck – it’ll cost an arm and a leg because it’s a 4WD and it’ll cost more for an assessment at the shop! Plus, it’s the BATTERY!”
Two days later…

Professional mechanic: “It’s the battery.”

(Well technically it’s the alternator, but the point is that it’s not the starter motor)

I, like so many before me who went against the all mighty parental unit, was wrong. The only difference is that I’m not a teenager nor am I in high school. I’m an educated university student who still goes home to find that mum and dad with a nice steaming plate of humble pie ready for me. It took me a while to get my foot out of my mouth to eat it, though. Does the drive to know more than your parents ever wear off? Its sure taking long enough…

Oh well, it’s one more entry for my big book of life lessons.