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Maybe This Is an Adventure

"It wasn't me, it was Kenzo."

"I didn't do it."

Eri texted me last night that Osamu had gone into my office, grabbed a permanent marker off my desk, and drew on his face and hands. My first thought was, "Finally, we have arrived."

He also apparently drew on some toys (sorry Lightning McQueen) and the bunk bed (which I haven't seen yet but have already expressed displeasure about to the boys).

My other thought was that Eri's mom, who was watching the boys while I was away and while Eri was at school, must've had her hands seriously full. 

I woke up early in Osaka this morning, had a coffee in the hotel lobby, walked across the boulevard to the airport, and hopped on the 9 a.m. flight back to Sendai.

The ascent from Itami Airport heading north goes directly over the city, and it is glorious on a sunny morning.


Osaka to Sendai is about 80 minutes and when the sky is clear and it's daylight the views are spectacular. I used to take it for granted.


Mount Fuji from a propeller plane makes me feel like I'm on an adventure. Maybe this is an adventure and I don't realize it enough sometimes.


When I walked in the door Kenzo nearly cried he was so happy to see me. He stayed home from kindergarten today because he was a bit emotional. Osamu rode the bus by himself, unfazed. Kenzo seems to have reached another developmental milestone and was having a hard time dealing with me being gone for two nights, mama being at her classes in the evenings, and just generally being a six-year-old boy with a crazy family. He needed a me day.

After a great big hug he immediately went back to playing in the living room. I headed up to my office to continue my work day.

Eri popped her head in around five and asked me if it's okay if we do dinner at Kappa Sushi, to which I said of course. She's got a cold plus allergies this week and the boys love the sushi place. Tonight Osamu had his first actual sushi dinner. Usually he gets the curry rice because he's, well, a little boy. Tonight, however, he graduated to sushi and cleaned his plate. 

After bath time I called Osamu into the kitchen to talk. I asked him about the marker stuff. Did you mark on the toys? He said no. Kenzo did it. I asked him who marked on his face yesterday. He said Kenzo did it. Kenzo of course could hear and denied the allegations and I told him to zip it this is papa talk.

In a scene reminiscent of the climax of A Few Good Men (though much more calm) I got Osamu to admit he did it, and he burst into tears and cried on my shoulder and hugged me hard. I told him mama and papa aren't angry but that you need to say if you did something because that's what good boys do. 

He gets it. 

At bedtime he chose the Paw Patrol Easter Egg Hunt book. Timely, as always. 

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