Pride is like a worm that lives inside your brain and whispers evil into your ear. Like the time my Pride told me to give everyone Fs on the progress report because nobody remembered my 51st birthday… even though it was clearly important to me and I had kept a countdown on the whiteboard for a month and even mentioned it every day, pointing kids and parents to a suggested-gift wish-list on my website. But then the next day the kids gave me a big rainbow Happy Birthday card and baked “magical brownies”, and I felt so happy that I fell asleep at my desk in the middle of the day. When I woke up all of their grades were “A”s again. Because I remember nothing I can only theorize that at some point the bird of Gratitude ate the whispering worm of Pride and I had corrected the grades before nodding off.