Over the years I have established many of my idiosyncrasies into my family’s lexicon, including, “The Pig is in the Poke,” which is a generic phrase meaning that some task has been accomplished, such as depositing a check, taking clothes to the dry cleaner, or delivering someone to the airport.
When Tom and Chele’s plane landed at Wil Rogers in Oklahoma City Saturday with our grandson Paul in their lap, they texted me the words, “The Pig is in the Poke.”
Yesterday we loaded up into the RV and drove to Abby’s hometown, Ryan, Oklahoma, to show off the baby to the kin. Everyone adored him of course, and it was a great time rumbling around in that beast of a vehicle, which I think we should name “The Kowalski,” after the protagonist in our favorite movie, Vanishing Point.
Today I took Chele, Tom and Paul to the airport to see them off. As always, it didn’t seem to last nearly long enough, and as always it was wonderful to see them.
And the pig is in the poke.