My grandson-to-be Felix is, at this writing, some five days removed from his expected due date and still in utero. This, of course, has created much consternation amongst a wide range of folks – most notably his mother, my daughter Lindsay, and his dad Brad.
As is the apparent norm in this modern technological age of ours, the updates on all-things Felix have come via frequent Facebook updates on the young man’s stubbornness in joining us in the world. While Facebook allows wide, quick dissemination of news, it is also provides a wide-open responsorial forum for commentary.
It’s been fun.
For most of us, anyway. Lindsay might just roll her eyes at this stage at any ‘fun’ comments.
Aside from Facebook, text messaging is of course another source of instantaneous checking in. Knowing this, and getting a slight sense of exasperation from Lindsay as the week wore on, I tried to keep my Felix inquiries to just a couple of light-hearted texts each day.
Brevity was almost as difficult as the waiting is.
Others got in on the act; son Sam the-seventh grader got out of school the other day, immediately flipped on his phone and texted Lindsay this quick query: “Any word yet on my uncleocity?”
A SIM card micro-chip off the old block.
Meanwhile, back at the grandpa-in-waiting’s Facebook homepage, I was endeavoring to keep my peeps posted on the latest goings on and…clarifying a few things to wit:
has mentioned a few times, in passing, that now-overdue-a-day first grandchild Felix will be fourth in line to the Lucker throne. Yes, there is, indeed, a Lucker throne – though we refer to it as the ‘king chair’ or ‘birthday chair.’ It is a treasured heirloom that resides in a corner of our dining room until a special occasion, when it moves to the head of the table and the guest of honor gets to sit in it for the day. Sometimes, we even decorate it for said special events. Inquiring minds may or may not have wanted to really know this…
On Thursday, the poet in me took a shot at updating the situation with a kicky and topical haiku:
Mark Lucker watched pot not boiling
patience is not my virtue,
overdue grandson! 😉
But Friday, my early morning update showed me to be more antediluvian than my young-and-hip mastery of grandfatherly social networking would indicate:
Mark Lucker just wants to say, to grandson-to-be Felix: “Olly olly oxen free!”
As I had been posting early in the morning, I would get to share these mini-gems with the family before heading out to work. My ‘olly olly oxen free’ prompted a look of quizzical disdain from Sam, and prompted me to add the explanation, “You know, when you’re playing hide-and-seek…”
“Yeah, I know, dad…but that’s a ‘your generation’ thing. People don’t say that anymore.”
“What? Sure they do. You have to when you’re playing hide-and-seek.”
“I’ve never said it, and I never heard anybody say it.” He began blithely pouring milk on his cereal, as I turned to my six-years-my-junior wife for validation.
“Yeah, I don’t think I ever said it. I have heard of it, but Iiiiiiive never said it. Don’t think I ever heard it used.” She took a bite of her raisin bran and continued reading the paper. Son Will the high school sophomore was, fortunately, still in the shower, and totally missed out on this one.
“Harumph.” I shook my head and headed out the door.
At school, I was relating the story to my colleague across the hall, a fellow English teacher and self-professed word geek just a few years younger than me. She, too, claimed she never said the phrase, nor could she recall ever hearing it in personal H&S usage.
She did allow hopefully that she had heard it on t.v. or in a movie, “Probably a Leave-it-to-Beaver episode, or something like that.”
‘Something like that.’ A Leave-it-to-Beaver episode. Sigh.
Gosh, Wally – I mean Felix – you gotta get cracking and get out here. I am apparently getting more outdated with each post.
Olly olly oxen free, dude.