For many years a copy was referred to as a Xerox and an instant picture as a Polaroid. In our home, in the late 80’s, Daddy’s pre-dinner poke was called a Toker for obvious reasons. As our infant daughter was being set up in her spot and dinner was being put on the table it was not uncommon for me to declare, “I’m going to do a Toker”. One evening while preparing to share dinner with my Grandmother and family at a restaurant I excused myself (to use the rest room) only to hear my baby exclaim “Daddy do Toker”. Not her first words but by far her most shocking blended thought to date. Maybe it was because her hearing was failing but for whatever reason, grandmom never commented. Lesson learned!
Our daughter did not hear of or see my Toker II again until becoming an adult. With one exception, when she was snooping and had to be told it was part of a Science Experiment for a school project I was working on. As she grew through college things changed and she began to share in my habits. Eventually she was shown this instrument of mass destruction but not allowed to touch it for fear of breaking the last I knew to be in existence. Until now! Ours will be a very special Family Christmas this year as we share Toker’s and Turkey on Christmas Day.
