I was on a diet...again. So when I got on the airplane in Portland to fly to Sacramento, I brought a salad. 

When I reached the security checkpoint, the guard said, soberly, "We'll have to take that fork." I wanted to laugh. I pictured myself poking the fork into the back of the airplane hostess and demanding the pilot reroute the plane to Holland, a country I've always wanted to visit.

"You can retrieve your fork from the lost and found when you return home," he said.

I boarded the plane and began chatting with the lady sitting next to me. She eyed my skimpy supper and asked, "Did you forget a fork?"

"No, security took it away from me."

"You're kidding." I shook my head. Two eavesdroppers in front of us began laughing. 

After the plane leveled off, I rummaged in my purse to find some possible utensil that would allow me to eat my salad. I began laughing again. On my key chain was a small fold up tool assortment with a fairly sharp knife and a nail file. They had passed through the x-ray machine without being confiscated.

When I returned from my trip late at night, I went to the lost and found. It was closed.

The next time I entertained company, I pulled out my matching eight-place silverware setting. One fork was missing. I smiled. I'm fairly sure that it's not likely that you will be accosted by fork wielding terrorists.

Ramona Scarborough is a published author, freelance writer, and public speaker.