Empathy On the Outside

Usually, it’s just me, the boys, and whatever little urchins they happen to befriend along the way. And make no mistake today was a stellar performance in the fine art of befriending rando, mealy-mouthed kids in the park, running around like maniacs, and losing shoes mid-sprint. And I am not chasing them. No sirree. I am the opposite of a helicopter parent. I’m more like a street sweeper parent... always somewhere, but only visible from time to time. The best I can say is that the boys are always nearby, they know where to find me, and I’ll do the occasional lap around the area to make sure the perimeter is secure.

Once in a while, we meet up with friends or family who have kids still at that stage where they need to be constantly managed or at least observed with extreme prejudice. Like today. Eri’s sister, her husband, and their two little ones drove up from their place about an hour south of Sendai for a visit.

Eri is a pro with the sewing machine, so much so that she has a solid online business making kids' bags for moms who can't do it themselves. The Japanese kindergarten and nursery school system requires parents to make specific items, like book bags and shoe bags and smocks and all kinds of stuff, with oddly precise size and design specifications. The assumption is that every mom can just whip these up from scratch, and finding the required items in stores is basically impossible. That’s Eri’s niche. She keeps a stock of standard bag sets and also takes custom orders. And since the new school year starts next month, her sewing machine has been humming from morning till night recently.

Eri’s sister’s two-year-old son is starting nursery school soon and needs the full set of bags. So she asked Eri if she could come over and get some made to spec, and of course yeah, no problemo. The whole family made a day of it.

The boys and I caught the bus to Izumi Chuo and headed to Nanakita Park, one of our frequent haunts and an all-around terrific park. Eri’s sister dropped off her husband and kids there shortly after we arrived, then headed to our house for the sewing session.

My brother-in-law and the kids played and played. His little ones are still very little, so I tagged along with them, chatted with him, sipped coffee from my thermos, and sort of kept tabs on Kenzo and Osamu, who were, as usual, making friends and zig-zagging through the park at a dizzying pace.

By 11 a.m. it was a decent 10 degrees outside, which meant the boys shed their jackets, and I became the designated jacket attendant.

At one point, I caught up with Kenzo, who was playing tag with some other boys. I said hello to one kid, and he looked a little startled before replying, "Hello," in English. I like finding out about the kids my boys meet and play with when we’re out and about. It often leads to long conversations with other parents. This kid, though, was super excited to speak English.

I asked Kenzo what his new friend’s name was, and he just shrugged. "I don’t know."

So I turned to the kid and, since he was clearly into the whole English-speaking thing, asked, "What’s your name?"

Very politely, he responded, "My name is Masashige Matsumoto."

And I thought, Whoa. That is a high-falutin’ name for a 21st-century fifth grader.

Around noon, I got word from Eri that the sewing was done, so I told my brother-in-law it was time for lunch. The boys said goodbye to their new park friends, we hopped on the bus, and met up with Eri and her sister for sushi at the place down the hill from our house.

And that’s when my poor brother-in-law had an entire bowl of hot udon spilled right in his lap. His face was so devastated in that moment that I did my best to empathize on the outside, but internally I was laughing so hard.