Archive | June, 2015

Are you ever punished?

26 Jun

Does your husband ever punish you?

No, I don’t mean the whip, handcuffs and loving kind of punishment I mean the ‘let’s treat you like a child because I think you need to learn a lesson’ kind of punishment?

It fucks me off no end, has little to no effect and just makes me want to whack him round the side of the head with a frypan – which I agree, is a MUCH more adult-like response.

Case in hand…

Last night I made Japanese curry for dinner. It is not exotic. We live in Japan and this is a very lazy meal. Takes all of 20 minutes and is something (or cream stew) that I just have to cook on days when my English teaching schedule slash kids homework and soccer schedule is just too hectic to fit in a menu that requires more thought or effort. For all the parents going ‘my god, don’t you own a slow cooker’ – No. I do not. But after talking to my slow cooker owner friend today I feel it might be the next online shopping purchase – just as soon as I’ve bought the dartboard for my birthday. Priorities.

Soooo, hub arrives home just after I have finished making the curry and says he has an appointment at the dentist. He comes home at dinner time with a swollen, bleeding face saying they had to pull a tooth. Thus, unless I mash the curry up so he can suck it up through a fuckin straw……. he makes himself some sloppy rice instead.

I therefore have more leftover curry than I thought I would.

It has been a long day. I have translated and taught English, ferried kids to soccer, made sure they did their homework, washed their armpits, cleaned their teeth. After they are in bed I wash the dishes and tell myself I must put the leftover curry in the fridge before bed. I then pour myself a drink and slip into the world of Masterchef and Reno Rumble.

I forget about the curry and as I fall into peaceful slumber it is at the bottom of my list of shit to remember for the next day – in fact it probably wasn’t even on the fuckin list.

This morning I wake up  – it is 6:02am. Hub is already downstairs making the kids grilled salmon, rice and rolled egg for breakfast. This has been a bone of contention for years. I do not think the children, or anybody for that matter, needs three cooked meals a day. Cereal and/or toast and/or yoghurt with fruit tis sufficient. Hub begs to differ and lately enjoys (as long as he can complain about how much he has to do) cooking the kids breakfast. He gets up at 5:45.

I spent 6 years of my life with my tits out and in and out of light fitful sleep. Two out of three kids sleep until 6:30 so why, for the love of fuckin god, do we need to get out of bed at the same time as the 7 year old? why?

Soooo, by the time I get up the kids are eating breakfast and I just need to make coffee for me and hub. I see the curry pot sitting on the stove, realize I didn’t put it in the fridge, but also realize the mornings require a fine art of maneuvering and logistics. So I leave the fucker on the stove top and vow to deal with it upon my return from the kid drop school routine. Will be home in 40 minutes so no big deal.

Unfortunately (for the entire universe) I didn’t say this out loud and in between me thinking this and returning from the school drop thing the pot is gone. I don’t realize this though as the pot isn’t in my face to remind me.

I get into cleaning, washing, translating housewife, work from home mum mode. I translate for a good few hours, I Jelly Splash for twenty minutes (at least I’m being honest), I do the washing, go to the supermarket, swear under my breath at the couple who are obviously having a ‘lets gawk at the gaijin day’, pick Ryu up, and his friend, supervise them for two hours while they play with bugs and go on walks to collect crabs, teach English, supervise homework, yaddah yaddah.

THEN, I go to start on dinner – a menu of cold noodles with toppings of egg roll, crab, cucumber, pork and sesame seed dressing (also not exotic – another 20 minute dinner). I go to boil the noodles and the fuckin pot isn’t there. Where the fuck is it? I look in all the obvious places. I may have even looked in the non obvious places, like the cutlery drawer.

I then think ‘you fucker, you’ve put the leftover curry outside and left it there’

I open the back door from the kitchen and sure enough – there is the left over curry, which has been in the near 30 degree sunlight ALL FUCKIN DAY. It is almost like he has added a packet of yeast to it – OMG, maybe he fuckin did!

So I go chuck the putrid smelly leftover curry into the unused rice paddy next door. As I am washing the pot out a million times before I use it hub comes home. He saw me washing it out. He didn’t say anything.

Probably just smugly thinking his ‘plan’ worked and maybe next time I won’t be a lazy housewife….

Well fuck that.

Next time I’m tipping that shit in the back of his car – maybe in the spare tyre compartment so it will take a while to figure out where the stench came from!!

Or gahhhh, there probably won’t be a next time.

Maybe I learnt my lesson…..





Birthdays and would you fuckin believe its…

26 Jun

It is so bloody hot today. I don’t mind the 27 degree heat, I mind the 80% humidity. There is no wind and it feels like I should be melting into myself or something – surely it takes a few more calories just to ‘be’ on days like this. I did the SHRED yesterday. Today I vacuumed. I think they were about the same workout, well they involved the same amount of swearing and pain – which as we know is just ‘fear leaving your body’ (said in Jillian voice of course)

We’ve had a few birthdays over the last two weeks. Three to be precise. Ryu turned 6 and almost overnight turned into a hormonal tween. Well, not in comparison to the others at his age but still, where has my beautiful little prince boy who does everything I say and is my 24/7 cuddle monster gone? Now he bloody goes round ‘sulking’ of all things. Aint no one got time for that shit. It could well be related to boy hormones or perhaps he’s finally fed up of playing the cutest younger child card and wants to get in on the sulky attitude action. Just as Shou was growing out of it too. I fear Marina may stay in a state of perpetual bitchy, sulky, moaning tween FOR EVER & EVER.

Last week was Shou’s 9th birthday and thus, because I spent my 30th birthday pushing his big head out the saloon doors, my 39th. I had a big translation due and English to teach so the day was a normal day. We had cake for dinner for the kids, put them to bed, and then hub put on his figurative chef’s whites and made the two of us a nice dinner, running out half way through to pay the florist for a delivery – a nice ensemble with baby green apples and baby bamboo (the floral arrangement not the dinner – that was steak). I feel like I would sound ungrateful if I told hub that I’d really just prefer a bright big cheerful bunch of flowers over the baby bamboo coming out of an elaborate ikebana display.


The pineapple is because Shou kept trying to guess what he was getting for his birthday. I told him it started with ‘P’ and that it wasn’t a play station, purse full of money, or a pig…

On Saturday we took Shou and some friends bowling and out for lunch. An altogether fun day but fuck me sideways, 5 nine year olds, a 7 year old, a 6 year old and a husband who was acting all strange cause he kept getting strikes and all in all I was bloody knackered and need several wines and some cheese to recover.

Now to the ‘would you fuckin believe it’ part….

If you’ve been reading for a while you will recall a conversation or two that HTB’s father had with hub about me perhaps taking the kids back to NZ for an entire year. This was before we left last year for our 5 month stint on English immersion. The father was a complete prick and said, in black and white, that if we took the kids out of this school then they would transfer their son to the school in town – it was complete fuckwitty cunty blackmail and I was furious and it basically ruined any kind of friendship hub had with him too. The main reason they would do this is because it is only Shou and their son in that year grade so us being away would mean their son would be on his own for a year – which technically isn’t true because the school only has 30 kids so they have two classes in one room – well 1st and 6th grades are separate and then 2nd and 3rd grades are together and 4th and 5th grades. They do some things together and for other things another teacher comes in. For example Marina and Shou are 2nd and 3rd grade so have desks in the same classroom. Marina’s grade has music and PE with the 1st graders and Shou has it with the 4th graders. Japanese and music are separated and Shou and HTB go into the adjoining classroom and get taught by another teacher.

yaddah yaddah, anyhoo…

a couple of days ago HTB’s mother sides up to me as we are picking the kids up from school and says in a very meek voice that there is a possibility her husband is getting transferred to the plant in the big city and if it did eventuate she was going to go with him and take the kids – as opposed to a very common Japanese tradition of weekend dads – where he would come back every weekend. Its only 2 hours away so this is very possible but it seems they might uproot and leave completely.

This will mean Shou is the only kid in his grade which will actually be fabulous for study purposes but will suck monkey nuts in 6th grade when he IS the only kid in a classroom – with a teacher all to himself 🙂 Fuck, you’d hope they got along. It also means that Ryu will start school with only one other kid (who is nearly a whole year younger than him and may or may not be a bit socially retarded) and not also with HTB’s younger sister, who, by comparison, is a good kid.

I can’t really believe she would uproot the kids, especially HTB who is ummm, quite an acquired taste, and I can’t imagine dumping him in a big city school with like 25 other kids in the same class is going to do his delicate, and often rather annoying, demeanor any favors.

Ah well, guess we’ll see how it pans out. I just find it ironic that the father was a complete twat to us when I took the kids home and now the tables are turned – although it is obviously a job transfer and not much he can do about it – whereas my motives were purely selfish (add sarcasm).

Watch this space 🙂

Right off to drop Ryu’s little friend back, pick up the other two kids and come back for English and a few more pages of translation.


Catch up

11 Jun

So, I took Shou to running practice on Saturday morning. I immediately spotted the four-girl group I thought had probably given him grief the week before. They were looking at me and giggling and generally being silly ten year old girls in the presence of a rarely seen ‘gaijin’. I asked him later if I was right about the girl in the thigh-high pink socks and glittery shorts being the ring leader and the one that called him ‘yucky’ for being bi-racial. I mean really, for fucks sack. glittery shorts? thigh-high pink socks? Running workshop!!!

The day’s running was uneventful and the girls didn’t say anything and vice versa, I didn’t kick their ass for being bitches last week. Shou was made anchor for the relay practice -which garnered him some more respect and a few more friends 🙂


On the health check front – I haven’t received my results and the Smear that I was meant to have on Friday had to be postponed until this Friday due to international hemorrhage day arriving that morning. I rang them and told them I was happy to announce that it was international hemorrhage day and should I still drive the 50 minutes and rock up for the Smear or should I leave it for another week. They said I ‘could’ come but there was a high chance I’d have to do the whole fuckin thing again so tomorrow it is. Wahooooo – not.

I am also presuming that not having my results yet means nothing really really serious (like only having a week to live) is off the cards – that or they are too scared to tell me and plan on leaving it until I’m spread legged in THE CHAIR tomorrow with a curtain separating me and the doctor and a cold metal ‘duck’ shoved up the saloon doors.

I will try and NOT drink too much wine tomorrow night at my ‘mummies night out’ and come home and relay the whole duck-up-the-salloon-doors experience for you.

You’re welcome. More than welcome.


On the after-school care front – they are still fucking me off. I go there on Tuesday and Marina was being told off for ‘flinging around an old useless tennis racket’ – that is in the room (for no fuckin reason other than kids wanting to pick the fucker up and fling it around) – and she was kind of dancing with it and a first grader came in and well, hello, usless tennis racket meets first grader’s head.

Now, IMO, Marina is of course wrong in swinging the racket around BUT, the adults in charge, who saw the whole thing, are also responsible. Apparently she was dancing around with it and it was all quite entertaining, even for the adults, until she hit someone in the head – and then when I got there it was all ‘Marina hit this boy in the head with a racket yaddah yaddah.’ I ask a lot of questions and find out the whole story.

I’m so fucked off with this shit that I said to the woman “Did you see her dancing around with this tennis racket INSIDE?” – she said “yes, but but,… .. so I said “but what?” –  to which she replied Marina wasn’t even meant to be there she was meant to be up in her classroom  doing fuckin OVERTIME (tis called I-nokori – when the kids are kept back because they have to re-write whatever of the 6 fuckin pages of homework they messed up from the night before).

Soooo, after school woman. Tis after school. Marina was obviously meant to be up in the classroom but she wasn’t (because her teacher had let her out before the others because she knew I was coming to pick her up), and so what? That means you don’t have to supervise her? I am PAYING you for AFTER SCHOOL CARE. Can I just say that ten other kids are already at ASC and Shou is there too.

Fuckin grow up or piss the fuck off.

I am so sick of adults not carrying out the correct supervision of children. If a child, mine included, is doing something dangerous or wrong or inappropriate then bloody stop them. Take whatever it is away from them. Tell them to sit in a corner for ten minutes and read a book or something. I get learning from consequences and shit but she is SEVEN.


I also had a run-in with Marina’s teacher – on the same day….

The whole class (second and third graders – so Shou and Marina)  were made to stay back after school finished at 3pm. I had told the kids that I would pick them up from after-school care at 3:45 so I would be back home in time for teaching English. Marina told her teacher I was coming early to pick them up so she (the teacher) let Marina and go down to after-school care at 3:10 – Shou too.

The rest of the class is in the classroom re-doing homework and then doing extra handouts until the other kids are ALL finished and they can do a ten second END OF DAY bullshit aisatsu thing together.

I arrive at 3:45 – Shou is ready to leave but Marina is nowhere to be seen so I go upstairs and find her teacher yelling at her for lying about me arriving early. I step in. I said Marina wasn’t lying – I had told her I was coming early (earlier than the 5pm time that everyone else gets picked up from after-school care) and that IF the teacher had already said it was OK to go downstairs, and IF I wasn’t there yet (like I wasn’t) then OF FUCKIN COURSE THE SEVEN YEAR OLD WAS GOING TO PLAY – you fuckin retard have you not learnt anything in the 35 years since you started teaching. The teacher was pissed that she had kept the other kids up to study and had ‘thought’ I had picked Marina up already when in fact she was playing outside as part of after-school care – to which the teacher had said she could go to wait for me.

This isn’t me going off on a rampage – this is time and time again me going to pick the kids up at the scheduled time and the teachers having random overtime homework periods and asking me to ‘come back’ in 40 minutes.

The school has been informed that hub and I don’t think the after school care environment is very safe and that there isn’t enough supervision and thus we will be picking the kids up as soon as I can. There are a couple of days a week when, because I teach English in the afternoons, this is hard and I need the kids to be at after school care for 30 minutes or so.

Marina’s teacher apologised to me for keeping her back (after she had told her off for lying to her) so I just grunted (yes, I think it might have actually have been a grunt) and piled the kids in the car and sped off.

Had I been Japanese then 1) it would have never gotten this far because I would have rearranged my work schedule to fit into the school timetable, b) I would just feel fine that my kids ran wild at after-school care, and c) I would have been on my knees apologizing FIRST for the behavior of my child .

Teachers in this country, like all countries, used to be highly highly respected. Some people still think this way. I think that teachers, like any profession, have to earn respect. If you’re a shit teacher then fuckin do something about it. I’m not going to say yes, and of course, and certainly, just because you have ‘sensei’ in your title. Perhaps I feel his way because I am a ‘sensei’ also and I treat my students a lot differently.

And they love English.

Because they have boundaries.

And because I’m reasonable – you earn what you get. I don’t make all kids stay behind if one kid is late with his homework. I will reward ‘the group’ if the ‘group’ does well.

Meh, I have too much to say on this. As much as I think Marina and Shou’s teacher knows and understands the kids I have a completely different view on her actual teaching. Shou and HTB did so well last year when they had a different teacher for Japanese and Math. Marina has had this teacher for EVERYTHING for two fuckin years. Shou – for two out of three years.

She’s lovely and all but for the love of fuckin god will you not just retire already!!

End random aimless rant.




Japanese Health Check

3 Jun

Most Japanese companies require all their employees to get a health check every year. Often you will need a medical certificate at stage two of a job application process also and really, it is actually quite fantabulous that the country puts so much effort into preventative health care.

This however does not deter from the get your tits out, hang upside, spread your legs, invasiveness of the standard Japanese health check. I did my last one the year after mum died. Remember. I was convinced I had a rapidly growing brain tumor – that I put down solely to the fact that I’d put the remote control in the fridge by mistake or something equally as brain-tumor-ish and akin to mum thinking I was giving her a snack of dead cicaders when in fact it was a handful of licorice. I got the standard health check (free as a dependent of a city office worker) and then paid an extra hundred and fifty dollars for an MRI.

The only thing wrong with me was my weight and my slightly fatty liver. I put off going the next year, and then the next and finally went again on Monday.

I would love to have been able to take pictures of everything but you will have to satisfy yourselves with a few pics and a word by word account of the entire lovely, and at times traumatic, experience.


An envelope arrived in the mail with a couple of questionnaires and two poo sample wand thingies. One questionnaire was general health (including how many drinks and how often) and  the other is for females having a smear test. The poo sample wand thingies are accompanied by a detailed sheet outlining how to best collect your poo with said wand thingie…


I know its blurred but this is probably preferable for those of you drinking or consuming foodstuffs as you read this. Let me outline it for you (you’re welcome). Basically you crap onto the piece of paper they provide (that is flushable) and then get out the wand thingy, do a few sweeps of the poo, while trying not to breathe and locking the toilet door because children keep wanting to ask you shit and they haven’t grasped the concept of asking through a closed door, and then encase it back into its little vile of chemicals for testing. This must be done on two separate days within three days of the health check. I just know that the not being able to drink or eat after 9pm the night before and on the morning means, coupled with the fact that I get stage fright when it comes to having to poo and pee on demand, I need to get my samples on the two days prior.

So I do. And thats enough about poo.


Try and wake up all bright-eyed and bush-tailed but got no sleep the night before as convinced body riddled with various types of cancer and tis start of possibly my final week on earth.

Arrive at the city hospital which is a 45 minute drive away. They did a huge remodeling a few years back and there is a separate wing for health checks. Which is good, because you get made to wear a poo-brown pair of trousers and matching poo-brown kimono-style top and this is made only slightly more bearable if you aren’t among the general public and are just passing other poo-brown figures in the hallway…


When you first arrive you check in, hand over your questionnaires and poo samples and then get ushered into the changing room. I went automatically for the XL but the woman told me it would be too big and I should just wear an L. I could have hugged her but I’d just handed two wands of my poo to her so thought it would seem awkward.

I then got a cute little clipboard with the order for my day’s various checks…



Can I just mention here that I arrived at 8:30 and was dressed and out the door by 10:20. In New Zealand it would take me quite possibly an entire week to get round the different venues necessary to carry out these tests.

1. Blood Pressure and Metabolic Fat Tummy Measure

My blood pressure was a bit high, which is hardly surprising as I was still stressed from knowing I had to get my tits out on three occasions, get something shoved up the saloon doors AND pee on demand. Seriously, telling me to take a few deep breaths and calm down is not going to help. Take my blood pressure at the other end when I’m just so happy its all over people would suspect I’d been smoking weed. The Metabolic Fat Tummy Measure has a more medical sounding name ‘I think’ but names aside, my tummy is too fat.

2. Cardioelectrogram

Or is it an electrocardiogram? Either way, it involved me having to lie face up on a bed with my upper half completely exposed. It felt like restarting a car battery because the young man (don’t even get me started on the fact that the three, no make that four, times I had to expose my boobs it was for male technicians – three of whom were, at a guess, in their late 20s and one was a middle-aged man similar to what you would expect to see jumping up and down at an AKB48 concert) clamped two clamps on my ankles and then two clamps on my wrists. He then had to put 6 suction cap things around my heart – which unfortunately, or fortunately, for him lay under my massive left boob which was spread out and spilling over my side in all her booby glory. He then pressed a few buttons on his computer machine thing and pulled the suction caps off – and they actually made that fabulous suction cap schlurpy noise. It was almost comical. Almost.

3. Hearing, Weight and Height

Got ushered into the hearing booth where I had to put on headphones and listen out for the four sounds in the following order. Yip, they actually had a sign with the order – left ear low pitch, left ear high pitch yaddah yaddah. To hub’s surprise my hearing is pretty damn good. So good in fact that when the kids were babies a deer crying in the valley two hills over would wake me up. Deers and babies – they sound quite similar on occasion. Well, they do if you’re a sleep deprived mother with three children under three.  The woman then took my weight and measured my height. Meh. At least I’m not shrinking so I guess thats a win. Also had a simple eye test – which way is the horseshoe facing kind of test. I have a lazy right eye so it was basically the lady asking me for each row and me just inserting more and more ‘maybes’ and then just laughing and completely giving up.

4. Blood Test

Very normal. She took three tubes of blood and off I went.

5. Retinar Test and Funny Air Pump in Your Eye Test

There is a machine like the one you put your chin on, and forehead up to, at an eye check for glasses, except this one pumps out puffs of air right into your eyeball. There is another similar machine beside it that takes an x-ray of one or both of your eyes depending on the quick eye check mentioned above. Tis a flash of light so bright and painful that you blink white circles for a good 30seconds afterwards.

6. Doctor Check

Got ushered into a cubicle and the curtain drawn. There was a nurse and the older male technician doctor dude who may or may not spend his weekends sweating and jerking off to AKB48 videos. He got his stethoscope out and checked my heart , my lungs and um, my kidneys? or my spleen? Do they make noises enough to be heard through a stethoscope? My boobs were exposed but the nurse had placed a towel skinny lengthways across my nipples. Probably covers some people’s entire boobs but yeah, nah, not mine.

The doctor then did a full and extremely thorough hand breast examination which was hands down, the most traumatic part of the day. He went all the way around both boobs from under my arm and right to the nipple, taking his pretty little time about it. I mean I’m sure they are taught to be thorough and lord knows if I find out I have a lump in my boob after all that I might get all American on his sorry ass and sue him.

7. Echo

I ‘think’ this was an echo of my kidneys and maybe my liver? I had to expose my upper half, again. The hot young doctor put a towel over my boobs and then hot gel on my stomach and sides. I must say he used quite a lot of pressure and tis probably a miracle he didn’t rupture anything. He went down far enough to make me think he also checked my uterus – and I’m happy to report I didn’t see anything moving in there. Huurah. Bonus. Being told I was overweight, had a fatty liver AND was expecting a fourth child probably would have led me to the bottle – which of course would have led to more weight, more fatty liver and a child with eyes on the side of their head.

8. Pee Test

After getting a box of tissues and a warm towel to wipe the gel off my stomach, I tied my kimono top back up (they do leave while you dress – a curtain gets pulled along – which is kind of silly as they’ve just seen everything – not however as silly as the pink flimsy cape you get at the mammogram) and walked out to be handed a pee cup and directed to the toilet next door – I had seen from my vantage point on the bed that beyond the echo area was the pee test area and I could hear the nice echo technician boy going to the back of the toilet to wait for me to put my cup of pee into the little doored cubby hole beside the toilet. Fark. It was all just so much pressure that I promptly dropped the fuckin cup into the loo. Obviously hadn’t peed in it yet so I went in for the retrieval and just hope there weren’t funny chemicals in the toilet water that will change my pee results! I finally managed to squeeze about ten mls out, put my cup in the cubby hole and then felt the urge to pee and promptly filled the toilet up half way. Go figure.

9. Mammogram 

I then get led to the radio department for X-rays and stuff. I got a quick chest x-ray and then taken into the mammogram room. It was the same man who did it three years ago and he remembered me – or he remembered my boobs. I had to take my kimono top off and step out in a tiny pink cape that did up with a button around the neck and covered approximately one third of each breast. I got each boob sandwiched horizontally and then vertically. Any boob touching that goes on is fine because it is all matter of fact and not a slow massage type check of my nipples.

10. Barium Swallow

Last on the agenda was drinking the Barium and getting tipped upside down on the x-ray machine. First I got handed a little cupful of ummm, crystal-type stuff that is like that popping candy. You have to put it in your mouth and then swallow a mouthful of the shit disgusting barium. Despite the desire to just stand there and burp for the next ten minutes you aren’t allowed to burp at all. The doctor then gets you to keep drinking the barium as he takes x-rays, before tipping you horizontally, getting you to roll over three times, face this way, turn that way, go nearly completely upside down and then roll over one last time for good measure. My kimono top was getting all twisted and this very nearly became boob exposure room part 5.


My smear was cancelled because the doctor got called out and I have to go back on Friday for that. Sucks monkey nuts that I couldn’t get it all over with in the one day but never mind.

Hub had his check on the same day and despite saying he wouldn’t wait cause my extra girly checks would take too long, he did wait and off we went out to lunch before he headed back to work and me home to patiently wait for the laxatives to work so I could shit out all the barium. It was fast and furious and it made me five minutes late for picking up Ryu but such is life.

And that my friends, was my health check. Did anyone even get this far!!

Should have my results in a few days.



It’s hard having a gaijin mum

2 Jun

I think out of my three children Marina gets the ‘where are you from?’, ‘half’ and ‘gaijin’ lines the most. Her hair is the fairest – that is it. I don’t think her face looks that ‘foreign’, compared to say Ryu, who has quite a cosmopolitan face. This is of course in my opinion 🙂 And I mean when they are out with their father. When I’m there everything goes out the window and of course the kids all look biracial. People see me at soccer and THEN look for Shou, and sometimes its only the slight brownness of his hair that ‘gives it away’.

Marina had a ‘gaijin’ moment a few months back when some little kids (5 years old-ish) at Shou’s soccer asked her to speak English, and was she American? and then they came and asked me to speak English. I was ‘this close’ to saying ‘hey you little fuckers, I’m from NZ, Marina is Japanese AND Kiwi and if you want me to speak more English then go and ask your mum for some money…’

Marina did come and ask me if she was a ‘gaijin’ and I said NO, tell those kids you are Japanese. As soon as she did, and as soon as I spoke some English to them they had satisfied their curiosity and they all started playing hide and seek 🙂 But, for a whole hour I saw not one parent supervising at all. Tis so not how I roll.

Two weeks ago Shou started going to a running workshop in the next town over. He is the only kid from our town going – seriously. Tis ridiculous. They offer an awesome workshop and nobody goes!! apart from 90 kids from the other towns that is! EXCEPT for the first week – when our ‘kid’s club’ took two other kids just for the day as a one off.

So last week he is the only kid from Kunimi. As much as I wanted to go on both the first and second weeks, I had Ryu’s kinder excursion one week and teaching at the primary school last week. Hub and Shou get home and Hub tells me that Shou had a ‘bad experience’ and to ask him about it. So I do.

He said a group of 4 kids from the other town over, older kids, called him ‘American’, and ‘half’ and ‘gaijin’ and THEN…..


supposedly because he was a ‘half’ (biracial – kimochi-warui means gross or yucky)

My kids get ‘half’ and I get ‘gaijin’ all the frickin time and I know my kids need to be ‘immune’ to these kinds of comments. It is what it is. Japan isn’t quite ready to host the Tokyo Olympics ya know!!

BUT telling my kid that ‘he is gross slash funny looking because his mum is a gaijin’ FUCK THAT SHIT.

I will hunt you down and  boil your bunnies.

Shou was crying as he told me.

I was crying and I was SAYING SORRY to my son, sorry you have to endure this shit because of me. We talked about the bitches that said it to him (although at the time I called them his ‘friends’) and I said they were just jealous he’s so fuckin handsome and fast at running. He didn’t seem too impressed. So I told him I would cancel everything next Saturday and take him myself. I wasn’t sure how he’d take it.

He was stoked.

I will be there my son. And IF they start that shit again I will be there to field the questions and educate them on what the fuck is OK to say and what is not, because obviously they haven’t had that education before.

So stay tuned for that – this Saturday.


PS – Shou got pissed off enough by them running around being mean to him that he told them all to ‘piss of you dicks and die’…. ….



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