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Downstairs Is Scary

This morning was a bit of a blur. I think the boys woke up early, or at least earlier than me and Eri, and they played in their room. They are starting to get that mama and papa don't need to be woken up at 5 a.m. just because they wake up at 5 a.m. 

Again, this is all blurry early morning don't-make-me-get-up-yet memory.

Osamu came into our room at some point because Kenzo did something like hit or scratch and then Kenzo came in to defend himself against the slander. They always go to mama first. Eri didn't even open her eyes and told them, "I need 10 more minutes go see papa." So Osamu comes around to my side of the bed and states his case again, something about Kenzo being mean. Without opening my eyes I said, "How about going downstairs to play?" Seemed like a perfect solution to me.

Nope. Osamu starts crying very loudly and going on about how downstairs is scary. I forgot about that. First thing in the morning when all the curtains are still closed the boys are at the age where they find that kinda scary. I get it. Sorta. It didn't matter now because Osamu was already bawling and Eri was hopping out of the wrong side of the bed (figuratively of course) for sure.

I went back to sleep for another 20 minutes. Eri may testify in court that it was actually 30 minutes.

The first thing I like to do when I get up is make the beds, fold up blankets, open the windows, and generally straighten things up. The morning sun comes in through our bedroom windows at differing angles, in varying colors, and with an array of feelings depending on the season. This morning was particularly wonderful.


I love eggs.

I love cooking eggs in all forms, and I love discovering new ways that eggs can be consumed. Japan is a great place to explore the uses of eggs, from sukiyaki to oden to yukke and way beyond.

After a dramatic morning getting the boys out of the house, with Eri on kindergarten open house duty for day two, I slapped on the Asics and got some steps in and hurried on home to get some nutrients before the work day officially started.

Two eggs. One soft-boiled with a splash of soy sauce and a dash of wasabi. The other a raw yolk on natto.

I love pancakes. I looooove pancakes. But when I eat this kind of breakfast, which I find so delicious I look forward to it the night before, I feel like the Six Million Dollar Man. Timely reference, right?

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