I just wanted a slice of pizza

This week has been so off-kilter I think it might be right.  I figure you can only go so far in the wrong direction before it actually becomes right, right?  There's been a giant Cheeto on the dining room floor for five straight days.  I refuse to pick it up just to see how long it will stay there.  Mama starts grad school tomorrow so I imagine it can only go downhill from here.  Or uphill, depending on how you look at it.  I'm sure the kids will appreciate a few days of unkempt hair, mismatched clothes and frozen pizza for dinner.  Anyhoo, we're not here to discuss our slow family decent, we're here for a friendly ego-boost.

So let us begin at bedtime.  As I was putting Ian down last night he chose the classic story of The Three Little Pigs.  All was fine and dandy until I got to the wolf's line and then I couldn't stop laughing because I had one of those weird flashbacks where something so absurd happened that you wonder if it really happened at all.  Then you realize that it actually did happen and you have to relive the shame all over again, all while your two year old stares at you and waits for the next page.
Because really mom, I highly doubt your story can top the daily embarrassment of needing other people to clean poop off your body.   We'll see.
It all started back in Oakland California in late July.  The entire family checked into the Homewood Suites and agreed to meet back at Mom and Dad Hsieh's room for pizza.  I went to our room and set up the pack and play and the pull out bed.  I changed Ian's diaper and put all our clothes away in the dresser.  Then Ben came to get the kids and took them next door for dinner.  After I finished up and made sure I had the room key, I went to room 103 and knocked on the door.

"Who is it?"
"Rebekah"
"Rebekah who?"
Rebekah who?  What do you mean Rebekah who?  Rebekah, your daughter in law. 
Oh, I see we're playing a little game.  Well two can play at this game. 
 Other than that inner dialogue I cannot exactly explain what happened next.  One minute I was me and the next minute I was channeling my inner drama student.  Because out of nowhere and before I could even stop myself I said in a full on husky wolf voice,
"Little pig, little pig let me in."
"Um, you can come in but I think you might have the wrong room."
At this point I panicked because I realized that this was not my family on the other side of the door.  Unfortunately, just as I was listing the options in my head:
1. pretend I was a crazy person and ask if they could point me in the direction of the pigs house.
2. pretend I was being cute and invite myself in with the hopes of setting him up with one of my single friends/siblings, or
 3. run
 the door opened, and not that it matters but it was a very handsome young gentlemen and he was standing in front of a group of handsome young gentlemen all waiting to see what I would do.  I did my best to regain my composure but what can you really do at that point.  There is no explanation for my behavior.  Even I didn't understand what had happened.  So I quietly apologized, went back to my room and prayed that I wouldn't see him at the breakfast buffet.
 It turned out my in laws were actually two doors down but I guess I missed that important piece of information.
The moral of the story is obvious.
Don't act like a complete idiot unless you are actually standing face to face with people who accept you and all your unexplained dramatic impulses.  And maybe double check room locations before prowling the hotel as a crazy dog.

Wolf Girl Out