When my sister and I booked a time to go through a corn maze with her kids, I assumed it would feel like autumn. Instead, it was an unseasonably warm day, and I was dressed in a hat and heavy sweater. I could feel sweat trickling down my back as I yanked the wagon through the maze.
I ripped my hat off my head and wrapped my sweater around my waist, trying to feel a little cooler. Then it hit me: We needed a shortcut.
Instead of staying on the ridiculously winding path, I decided to plow the wagon through the corn stalks.
I truly am so sorry to the farmers. I was convinced this would be faster. We could cut through to the other side. Easy peasy. Except the corn stalks were taller than I had expected, and suddenly I had no idea which way we were supposed to go. We were lost in the center of a corn field. My leadership skills clearly needed some refining. I continued to drag the wagon through the corn, my niece and nephew trying to dodge the corn stalks that flew towards their faces.
I was convinced my way was better, but in reality, I had no idea where I was going. I just wanted to go home. Suddenly the face of an older man appeared through the corn stalks.
