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Headway

Five p.m. in the living room.

"Hey, Kenzo, tell me about game day at kindergarten today."

He was busy with some drawing and shook his head.

"Well... then tell me one thing about your day, good or bad. Papa wants to know what your day was like." 

Another head shake. He was focused on his artwork.

"Okay, dude. Then you gotta gimme a hug or I won't leave you alone."

That got a reaction. Without saying a word he turned and crash landed a hug on me. I think he's learning the technique of the tackle hug from Osamu.

I took the afternoon off from work to see my therapist. I haven't been in a couple of months. It always feels weird on the way there because I have no clue what to talk about. Once I'm there, though, and the nice old lady asks me how I'm doing I go on for twenty minutes about what's inside my head.

Today I think I made some headway. Thanks to my head shrinker's questions I may have discovered something beyond just the conscious neuroses I know I have. Apparently I might be focusing all my thoughts and attention on what's coming in the immediate or even distant future and not enjoying the moments I'm having in the present.

On the way home I got a message from Eri that something happened with the laundry hanging outside. She was afraid some weirdo might have have messed with it. I called her from Izumi Chuo Station and said I'd be home in about thirty minutes. She texted me after that a few times asking how far I was and at one point even messaged, "Run."

When she was out with the boys after picking them up from kindergarten the laundry rack outside blew down in the wind and some pieces of the rack were missing. 

I ran up the hill. Eri was thinking of calling the police.

When I got back Eri and I searched outside for the missing rack pieces but to no avail.

I went inside and checked out the laundry rack. The missing pieces were inside the rack, pushed in when it fell over in the wind.

Eri apologized and I said it was fine. I was so tired, though. I went upstairs to my desk chair and leaned back all the way and tuned out for about thirty minutes.

Story time tonight was The Polar Express by Chris Van Allsburg. The boys borrowed it from the library. It's a great story and I'm glad they like it, but to me it's creepy. Santa Claus seems to be a weird dictator and the elves are a legion of acolytes. And the train is full of kids who basically ran away from home in their pajamas on Christmas Eve and eat super sugary sweets served up by swarthy attendants. 

Apparently it won two Caldecott Medals so who am I to criticise. 

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