It’s funny how many people I know that claim they don’t like quiche…. then they love it.
Me (to my 8 year old): “Let’s make a quiche to go along with our French studies”
My 8 year old: “I don’t like what ever you said”
Me: “What? Quiche? When have you had quiche?”
Her: “Never. It just sounds gross”
Me: “It’s like scrambled eggs, ham and onions in a buttery crust”
Her: “Oooo. That’s sounds good, let’s make that.”
Maybe it’s just the word quiche that makes people go ehhhh.
I’ve made many quiches in my life but just renamed it to appeal to the general public.
Cheesy spinach and egg cups (aka mini crust-less quiches)
tomato and mozzarella tart (aka tomato and basil quiche)
basil and pepper breakfast pie (you guessed it: QUICHE)
Sometimes, changing the name of something makes it that much more appealing.
Garbage man= sanitation specialist
mail man = federal package transportation specialist
wait staff= server
sales clerk= assistant to economic support
gas station clerk= OPEC operations assistant
You see? It’s all about how you word things. 😉
Speaking of wording things; my daughter and I took a mommy-daughter road trip up the eastern coast and into the Blue Ridge and Great Smoky mountains of North Carolina. It was an amazing experience that we will both remember the rest of our lives. I had never driven farther than three hours away, and she had never seen mountains. Win-win, because now I officially have the kahunas to hop in my car and see the world.
There is one thing I will make sure I do next time.
On our “way home”, we decided that it would be fun to visit the Georgia Aquarium. They have whale sharks, beluga whales and even manta rays. This was a Sunday.
Did I mention there is this event called football in Atlanta on Sunday?
Needless to say, (and despite my husband encouraging me via text to get on the road before the game ended) … we got stuck. As in two and a half hours stuck in traffic. And, as the sun turned amber in the sky above, my hubby said go get a room.
Easy enough. I went on my trusty phone, looked at where I was- picked the next closest town and booked a room via Expedia.
The hotel looked freshly painted, smelled good and was aged but clean.
But something felt “off”.
We went up the elevator and down a shining style hallway… musty carpet beneath my feet made my skin crawl. I passed by a dark laundry room/vending machine area that held a couch with a man assumingly passed out upon it…
I quickly just wanted to get safely into a room a lock the door.
We got into the room and my skin continued to crawl. “Keep calm.” I told myself, not wanting to alert my daughter and scare her.
I quickly go to flip light switches, but only one, dim florescent light in the bathroom heeded to my advancing of switches. I survey the dim room. Fresh sheets, filthy carpet and cracked tiles.
I pace. My daughter looks at me.
“Mommy?” I’m scared. I don’t like it here.”
Voices chuckle loudly from down the hall and our doorknob rattles.
As we left I explained to the gentleman at the front counter, “I’m sorry, my daughter is scared and this isn’t really the place for us to stay.”
His reply: “I give you good room. “
“Yes, sir. Thank you, we are just not able to stay here.”
“Nothing wrong with room. It good” his voice grew stern.
“Sir, there is a man passed out in the laundry room” I explained, “My daughter is scared.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about”
“I’m sorry, we need to leave. I will be requesting a refund.”
“You call manager.”
Of course my phone call with the manager went as well as leaving did. I attempted to explain my case, and in a think, heavy accent I was told, “No refunds.” Click.
So, my daughter and I decided we will always plan our hotel stays well in advance.
Or, maybe I will just get an RV. No laundry rooms there, lol.
Further down the road, we found a nice town and a even nicer room. We jumped and hopped on the bed, ecstatic with clean floors, crisp sheets and a hot continental breakfast to greet us in the morning.
We washed up and snuggled up to some “Bubble Guppies” and counted our blessings.
Sometimes you have to spend time in dark rooms to appreciate the light we have.
There are times to be the light of the world and there are times to seek the light of the world.
There is something about names that can be misleading, or make unpleasant things seem nicer. Our first room was actually a “suite.”
Or second room was just that, a room. But: to us it was our suite.
And, finally: for Quiche… or scrambled egg pie. 😉