Power Juice, BS, and Angry Lady

My husband, His Royal Highness of the Rabbit Hutch, is prone to making proclamations. With no regard to the effect it will have on anyone besides HRH, and with no thought on how, inevitably, it will be more work for me, we are expected to just accept it and move on.

May I present exhibit A, aka this morning. We decided last night that today we would go to the electronics store three stations away and buy a TV. We’ve been without the boob tube since July 24 when analog broadcasts were discontinued. This also was the first day of summer vacation for Me First. Perfect timing(insert sarcasm here.) Was hoping the experiment with living Amish would lead to more family time and lively dinner conversation like in “The Berenstain Bears and Too Much TV,” but since that hasn’t happened then I’m all for getting a new set. One with bilingual this time, please and thank you. Though I must admit I did enjoy 90210 reruns on BS in Japanese…By the way, is it just me or is BS the best name for a TV channel EVER?

Anyway, I prepared to spend most of the day out, which at this stage includes preparing a sandwich and snacks+change of clothes for Me Too, thermoses, hats, sunscreen and a baggy full of Band-Aids for the rest of us. When I finally had everyone dressed, ready, and putting their shoes on in the foyer, HRH proclaims that it will be a pain to take kids to the store (is he just figuring this out? )and that we will be going to the park instead, in spite of the fact that it is 960 degrees outside. And that we will be having lunch at home, which was somehow just gonna magically appear, I suppose. See what I mean? More work for me and STILL no TV.

The grocery store is on the way, and I figured I’d pop in and toss the used milk cartons in the recycling bin there. Garbage in Yokohama is crazy! You’re supposed to sort trash into 10 different categories, all with different pick up days. I am not organized enough to remember half of that, so I frequently use the bin at the grocery store.

HRH and kids were gonna walk on ahead to the park, but right before splitting up HRH asks me to pick him up some power juice.


He said this in English, but I had no idea what he meant. Coffee? No, that’s my power juice. Then it dawned on me that he was talking about those energy drinks. The ones on the manly aisle next to strange sexy manga and hair wax that smells like testosterone. I do not wanna go there.

But being the good, subservient wifey that I am, I close my eyes, dash up and grab the first bottle in reach. Good enough.

Power Juice?

Next time Aunt Flo comes to visit I will exact my revenge. Don’t say anything to HRH because I wouldn’t put it past him to impregnate me just to avoid a trip down the girly aisle(*^o^*)

And lastly, imagine my surprise when I saw my children had defaced my Jillian DVD cover. They call her the “Angry Lady. ” I think she would like that.. .



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