Of Their Fork

Our kids share a fork.

And it's not because we have any lack of silverware or because we are trying to teach them some important lesson. No. It's because this is their compromise.

In a world where there are many floral-handled silverware, which, by the way, are way better than the white-handled silverware, either option being the rejected hand-me-downs from dad's and mom's (respectively) college days, there is only one fork with a solitary rose adorning the smooth silver handle. And there is one little girl who appreciated the beauty of that simple rose. And there is one little brother who just always has to have what his sister wants.

So, at some point, after much fighting and a long fork time out, they struck a compromise - they could share it. Now, at breakfast, one hurries to eat their eggs before passing the fork along to the other. For other, more fork-intensive meals, I have to draw the line and either one person gets to have it (which almost never happens) or they agree to save the precious fork until morning. And when they see their fork, gleaming, all freshly-washed in the dishwasher, they squeal with delight, "We can share today!"

And this is their preferred method of eating. Like Laura and Mary sharing a tin cup back on the prairie.

Except, you know, they actually have a choice.

You know, whatever keeps the peace.

This is it. The Holy Grail of Forks. And, yes, I had to retrieve it from its eternal home, the dishwasher, for this photo.