Pointing to the Park

My parents are wonderful. They offer advice freely and have never steered me wrong. When I’m really aggravated about a situation, I can trust them to listen, knowing they will, without reservation, challenge my wrong attitude. We speak daily, lunch frequently, and have logged in many, many hours at sporting events. Most recently, American Legion baseball games. Three in the past week. It would have been four, but I was out of town. I hope that our future includes many more such events, but I think I’ll have to use my own car.
The first game of the week was scheduled for 2:00. They picked me up at 12:30, and we headed to Mel Ott Park in Gretna. I thought we were leaving a little early, but didn’t question the decision since I wasn’t driving.
Right before we were to cross the river in New Orleans, my Mom started issuing directions. My Dad said he knew what he was doing. He had driven to that park 3 times in the past two weeks. Armed with printed directions and a GPS, my mom continued to debate his decisions.
Once we crossed the bridge, I relaxed a little too soon, for the next words I heard were, “Now we just need to look for a water tower.”
A water tower? What about the GPS and the MapQuest directions? I frantically began a Google search for the park on my phone. Before it could download, we were paying a toll, back on the bridge, and headed to New Orleans.
“Now we’re going back to New Orleans,” my Mom said. Nothing gets by her.
We convinced him to take the first exit, and got directions from the man on the corner who was asking for donations, which struck me as a little odd. My Dad would not listen to the GPS, or my Mom, yet he paid close attention to the man who approached him at the red light. Somehow, someway, we made it back onto the bridge, crossed the river again, took a different exit once we reached the west bank, and resumed our search for the water tower. Up to this point, my words had been few. When I could no longer hold back, I asked, “Is this the route you usually take? Is this the reason we had to leave so early?”
After a few more turns, and U-turns, my Dad pointed toward the sky and said, “See, there’s the water tower!” Soon after, we were seated at the park. “That GPS was messing me up,” he insisted.
“Yes, well, I didn’t have the address to the park, so I just put in the street name, and picked a number,” my Mom revealed.
My parents are wonderful. They can point people in the right direction in life, and even try to steer them toward Heaven. Just don’t ask them how to get to Mel Ott Park.