Goodminton

The boys and I were playing badminton out in the street the other day. And by "playing badminton" I mean of course we were running amok with rackets and birdies. Kenzo and Osamu have little boy rackets with short handles and I have a regular adult size one, and we managed to keep that birdie in the air for a while. 

Eventually the kid from a few doors down came by to play too and one of the birdies ended up on top of our neighbor's carport. The dad saw it and shouted out the window (because he's an army drill instructor and has no volume control) that he'll climb up and get it tomorrow because he's about to get in the bath. He actually apologized for the delay in retrieval. 

Kenzo asked me what this game is called. He knows basketball, soccer (he's been to a pro soccer match already and plays every Saturday), and baseball, but this was totally new for him. I told the boys this is badminton. They looked at each other and laughed. Osamu squealed this new word back to me, "Baaaaadminton?"

Kenzo asked me why it's bad. I said it's not. He said then why is it badminton? I said the bad part doesn't mean it's bad. It's just a name. He did that thing where he stares into space and thinks. I love observing this and always brace for the utterance to follow.

After about seven seconds of intense thought he says, "I think we should play goodminton."

So we did.

On a side note, my adult size goodminton racket came from our shed. It's in a nice little case with one other racket and two birdies that Eri and I bought back in 2015 right around the time we got engaged.

Nanakita Park, Sendai  2015

Today, however, was Tuesday. A work day. Eri was engaged in some serious manual labor outside, scrubbing down the concrete steps that lead up to our house from the driveway. I was at my desk with the windows open.

Right before a particularly terrific 30-minute walk at 8:15 I indulged in one of my favorite forms of morning nutrition - natto with a raw egg yolk. I make good use of the mustard and soy sauce that comes with the natto. It is so satisfying that when I lace up my shoes and start my walk I have this stupid smile on my face for the first five minutes at least. 

Tonight, unexpectedly, Eri dumped some spicy cod roe on my rice for dinner. That is also one of my favorites. Thank goodness I poured white wine. 

Osamu wanted to try it, as always. I wanted to give him a taste, but Eri was watching. She disapproves of me giving spicy things to Osamu (Kenzo never asks), even just a taste. She's a good mama.

It's not that spicy. If she wasn't there I would have given him a tiny taste. He would've asked for more.