At times, we may be forced to deviate from the route leading to our destination. This can be troubling.

 

We have to watch where we’re going and pay attention to . . .

 

 

A Fork In The Road

 

We drove down Highway 195 on our way to Bridgerton State Park

     to celebrate the end of our summer vacation.

Our kids, Miller, six, and Sarah, eight, were out of control—

     yelling at each other and showing signs of frustration.

 

Two hours in the car had taken its toll on them,

     but this was where Teri and I had celebrated our first anniversary

     and we wanted to revisit the scene.

We hadn’t been back in years, but today was the perfect day,

     sunny and warm, to see if the picturesque park was still pristine.

 

Teri buried her nose in the novel she’d been reading at home

     and didn’t pay much attention to the road ahead.

So I frightened her when I yelled, out, “Oh, no!

     They’re doing construction, the road is closed,

     and we need to take the detour instead.”

 

“You’re not serious, Eddie? This could take us out of our way

     and delay our arrival today.”

“Well, do you have another idea—one that would keep us on track?”

     I asked. “Come on, what do you have to say?”

 

She didn’t answer and then Miller whined, “I’m hungry.

     I haven’t eaten anything since we left the house.”

“Well, reach over and get the bag behind your seat. Mom packed

     goodies for the trip. See what you can find, my little ‘mouse.’”

 

“I’m not a mouse, Daddy. I’m a roaring lion who wants to eat

     everything in sight.”

“Okay, but for now you’ll just have to be satisfied with what you find

     in the bag. Is that all right?”

 

An earsplitting sound came from deep inside him, as he said,

     “I’ll eat anything I can with the ‘Fork in the Road.’” 

His statement came out with such force, it made me shake,

     and I felt I might explode.

 

Had someone dropped silverware on the highway? I thought.

     Then what I saw blew me away.

A kitchen fork, standing under the stop sign in the road,

     seemed to be commanding us to stop and stay.

 

But then things got weird, as Sarah blurted, “Mommy, Daddy,

     look behind the fork. What do you see?”

Oh, my God! An army of cutlery stood at attention,

     armed and ready to move in our direction. Were we history?

 

Then without warning, all four car doors swung open,

     tossing us out of the car onto the ground.

The fork looked at its troops, shook in anticipation

     of its wonderful find, and motioned to them to gather around.

 

Not knowing what would happen next, we witnessed

     the strangest thing—salad and soup, meat and potatoes,

     and veggies galore fell from the heavens above.

I looked at my watch. It was dinnertime. The silverware danced

     and offered their service in helping us eat,

     in a momentous gesture of love.

 

 

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