Sometimes it becomes apparent that what bonds you and your siblings is not just blood, or experience, but shared crazy.
Apropos of nothing, my baby brother texted me a picture of a fork. Labeled it THE ONE FORK. And with this text.
BTW: this is the ONE fork.
It came from the house of Robins.
I can find no other like it.
To clone it is my Xmas wish.
I agreed instantly! I had TWO of those forks. And this is how I know I’m not a selfless big sister. He asked me if he could have one…. One of my TWO?!?!
Obviously, desperate measures had to be taken.
Whipped out the research gene, and lo and behold, the forks are still available! Used, of course, and randomly spread across internet auction sites like eBay, etc. But there they were! The ONE TRUE FORK! OUR PRECIOUS!!
I sent him the link. And then decided, hey, two of these forks were nice, but more? More would be better! El Niño came to the same immediate conclusion. The texting lapsed.
It lapsed… suspiciously. Pretty much the length of time it took each of us to find our wallets, our credit cards, and start shopping. Cue a buying spree in two states in two time zones.
I purchased six more of The One Fork! My brother, losing his mind with excitement, purchased about five forks, two random knives, and a bunch of teaspoons, all in the same pattern.
The thing you have to understand is that this is a cheap fork. It’s not like we were losing our minds over missing pieces of Granny’s sterling. No, this is a stainless steel fork that is about one step up from a durable plastic fork.
It’s EKCO brand, which is about as inexpensive as you can get and still have the flatware not bend with use.
It’s not a particularly exciting pattern. A basic chevron with a couple of random swirl dots at the end.
We don’t even know where these forks came from: our mother denies all knowledge of them, and in fact has been known to sneer at them.
So why, oh why, do we love this particular fork so much?
It’s lightweight and it pierces everything you poke it at. You can eat a salad with it and stab a crouton right through the middle without the crouton crumbling! And if you’re missing a steak knife, well, hell the sides of the fork are thin and sharp enough you can use it to cut with. These forks (3 of them exist for sure, and we may have to poll the other brother to see if he has any of them) survive everything. They are the first forks we reach for. They are the ONE TRUE FORK.
Even my roommate agrees. It happened organically. I have two of the forks. One of them is always in the dishwasher. And then, I realized, we were both subtly jockeying for the Stabby Fork at every meal. Ignoring all the “good” forks. It’s a mark of favor when one of us steps back and serves the other with the One Fork.
I can’t explain it. I don’t really know that I can even blame it on nostalgia.
But, at least I’m not alone.
And now, I have more of THE ONE TRUE FORK.
They’re perfect. They’re the exact same fork, only lots shinier. And I think I’m going back for the teaspoons. Why?
Because they’re stabby at the tip.