HamakkoMommy, Executive Producer

I am HamakkoMommy, executive producer of all things. Nothing, and unfortunately I am not exaggerating, NOTHING happens in this household unless I have a hand in it.

Here is a brief example of what I mean:

(Setting: the breakfast table. I am in the kitchen half of the room, let’s pretend I’m cooking up something fabulous. Stretch your imaginations. Kidlets and HRH are at the table. Fridge is beside the table. You’ll need to know this in a minute.)

Kid A: I’m thirsty.
Me: I’m cooking something fabulous. Please ask Daddy to get you some milk.
(Daddy is absorbed with his computer and doesn’t hear this exchange. Or he’s ignoring it.)
Me:パパ、牛乳を入れてあげて(Will you pour the kids some milk?)
HRH:(startled from his iFog)Okay. Will you get the cups?
Me: (This is the part where I groan inaudibly. Or at least I think it’s inaudible. After the bugs in hell incident I’m not so sure. I stop, mid-fabulous, and get the cups from the dishrack that are actually equidistant between myself and HRH.)はい、どうぞ、(Here you go. Did you think it meant “Go to hell?”)
HRH: Where’s the milk?


As if there are lots of different places we keep that.

I end up stopping what I’m doing, washing my hands, and then getting the milk rather than explaining the painfully obvious.

Do you see how it is actually moi who is producing this event?

And so it goes, every little thing all freaking day long. The management of minutae is tedious, infuriating, exhaustipating. (That’s like exhausting, but with poop involved.)

Sure, 99 times out of 100 it would be measurably easier to do everything myself. But then nobody would learn anything. Which hopefully they are…


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. L.
    Dec 23, 2012 @ 17:21:38

    True story:
    ME: “Can you please get me some water?”
    HUSBAND (slightly irritated) “Why can’t you get it yourself?”
    ME: “Because I just had a c-section 45 minutes ago — remember? You were there, I think? And I can’t feel my legs yet.”


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