once
I lied to my son. when he asked if it would take more than three days to drive across the country, I said no. though I did finally admit that maybe --maybe-- it might take a little bit longer. I kept my answers vague because three days was his scary number. three days was the answer he had hoped against all hope he would not hear. to a ten year-old, three days on the road to a is a lifetime but fourteen days on the road is, well, unfathomable. so I did what I had to do, I lied. I'm not proud of it, but I lied.
but after three days of driving, he stopped asking 'how much longer' and started asking 'what next'-- what city, what park, what mountain, what highway, what adventure, what next? what next?
I came to love the sound of those two words: what next.