"In 20 years, there will be a pork roast in your luggage."

So here's a funny story.

I've been to Hawaii a couple of times before. My parents are big fans (understandably), and so whenever they have enough frequent flier miles accrued and can finagle the timeshare, we go. This has worked out to I think four times in my life (they went once without me. I think this is my fourth trip, although I'm not entirely sure...). And having done this a couple of times, they've learned a few tricks. Not the least of which is that everything on the island is expensive, so we tend to pad our suitcases with some staple items that we can buy cheaper here. The timeshare always has a kitchenette, so we eat what we take and then have room in the suitcases to bring stuff back that we acquire there. Makes sense, right? For this trip (which is really the first time I've gone as an adult), I have spaghetti, sauce, peanut butter and strawberry preserves, etc.

About 13 years ago (holy shit...), we went after I graduated from high school, and we took Claudia along (because what 17 year old wants to be stuck on an island with her parents for two weeks when she could be exploring the city of Honolulu with her best friend, boarding surreal buses full of people who don't speak English and having sketchy guys offer them weed on street corners?). Which, great, we fly in, we get there, and we're at the condo unpacking, and my mother produces from their suitcase...a pork roast.

Claud and I were like, what??

They'd frozen it here, packed it in a cooler, and dragged the frozen hunk of meat like 6000 miles. Which had more or less thawed by the time we got there. Which was, apparently, the plan.

Claudia was fairly baffled by this. I kind of rolled my eyes - after all, they were *my* parents (I was a little more used to them. Suffice it to say, neurotic apples do not fall far from their trees). Although...in retrospect...I'm not sure I actually ate the pork roast. I don't think they ever did convince me that no food safety rules were breached by letting the thing ride in the cargo hold...

I had a really nice day in Chicago today. I bought a new 75-300 zoom lens for the Rebel. Claudia and I drove out to our favorite restaurant from my college days, just over the Indiana border, and then we drove around my college campus for a while (wow, have they made some interesting architectural choices...). And then we met up with the whole crew for dinner, including my two completely adorable nephews, who are now one and three (again, holy crap). We ate, we laughed, we talked, we had a good, good, good time. And they made fun of me for packing food in my suitcase, which led to the comment that became the title of this post.

Gosh, I miss y'all up here.

And then, in like 7 hours, my uncle (the actual, genetic one) is coming to take us to the airport, so we can all spend a really long time on a plane. And then be in Hawaii.

I don't think there are any pork products stowing away in our luggage this time, though....