The three spawns returned to school this week after nearly a month long Summer break at home with me. My analysis of the Summer is that it was a successful one since nobody ended up killed at the hands of an irritated family member, no parents were summoned to the Dean's Office just for a "talk", minimal nakimiso episodes with the Mad Cow, predictable frequency of hostile moments with the Diva and minimal having to drive home to pick up something the Professor forgot in one of his absent minded moments. If I'm not under CPS custody when school rols around, that's a major accomplishment.
To the children though, the summer was a terrible one because:
1) We did not travel anywhere like all of our friends did
2) We did not stay in a luxury hotel in Waikiki like all of our friends did
3) We did not see our friends enough because we don't live by them (5 minute drives don't count)
4) We had to spend time together at home like all of our friends did not
5) We had to spend time at the Clubhouse even though Mom doesn't work there anymore
6) None of our textbooks came in time for school to start and all of our friends had theirs because they all got new books at the Bookstore and did not have to buy them used online like we had to
7) We did not get to play with our cousins from the Mainland enough because Mom has a small car and cannot fit everyone in there while all of our friends' Moms drive SUVs or vans that can fit 8.
8) MAD COW did not purchase all of he puffles ever made like his friends did
9) DIVA did not get to go to Old Navy every day like her friends did
10) PROFESSOR did not get an IPad, new laptop or Droid b/c he was required to clean his room before doing so and none of his friends have to do that.
So, you see there is a trend here. Basically, everything sucked because of comparisons to or lack of friends. Each child counted down the days and hours before school started which seems to be a common occurrence amongst modern day niblets.
Is it just me but didn't those of us who are now Moms and Dads (well, OLDER Moms and Dads anyway) enjoy the Summer break and dreaded returning to school?
My favorite summer memories do not include buying some techno gadget or hopping in a plane to go somewhere with hoards of other demented families but involve some quiet moment spent at my grandparents' home in Moiliili - usually accompanied by my younger cousin RI. Our day started off with breakfast - wheat toast and orange marmalade for Grandma (what is it with Obaachans and orange marmalade anyway? Do you know anyone besides an old Japanese lady with a tight blue-haired afro who eats the stuff?), scrambled egg with a ham pattie from a can for Grandpa and toast with butter for us. Sounds totally boring but my Grandparents would jazz it up by making "crowns" for us out of paperbagss. When we finished out toast, we would put on our crowns and go "Da da da DAHHHHH" like in the Imperial Margarine tv commercial. For you young folk, this was slick advertising back in the day - eat butter, get a crown on your head (Imperial - crown, get it?). It didn't matter that we had a ghetto crown made of brown paper bag, we felt as regal and special at Queen Elizabeth at her coronation. There is no way you can have a sucky morning if you started it out with a crown on your head.
One day, my grandparents decided to throw us for a loop and serve Frosted Flakes. We were so thrilled that we ate like we had been on Survivor eating grubs for three months. Scarfed down the whole box - we had about six bowls each. Then we puked but to this day, I still get a little jazzed when I smell an open box of Frosted Flakes. There wasn't even Tony the Tiger then. Actually, I don't remember my grandma ever giving us cereal after that. I think she thought there must have been narcotics sprinkled on instead of sugar by the way we ate till be barfed.
My cousin and I would eat breakfast really quickly so we could watch Checkers and Pogo. As she was skinny and I was chubby, when we'd play, she would always be Pogo and I would be Checkers. This was a plus for the plump since I could whack her with stuff and tell her that I was just copying Mr. Checkers like on TV. While I admired Checker's ability to batter innocent vest-wearing bearded bumbling idiots, I really really wanted to be the evil, furry Superspy McPigg. How cool to spend ever moment of the day plotting the overthrow of Mr. Heftel's great empire and trying to recruit his nephew Sylvester to the dark side. If it was lucky number day, my Grandpa would spread out the stack of Checkers and Pogo magazines he had taken from Orange Julius at Ala Moana (always at least 20) and we'd see if we won anything.
It have been must be bachi because we never won once. Grandpa did win the lucky number once when he called in on J Akuhead Pupule's morning show (which he blasted out of his outdoor office every morning) and we were in heaven when we got to go to the KGMB studio to pick up our prize. It was a bag full of demo 45s from Bobby Goldsboro, a loaf of Loves Bread, some Hostess snowballs and KGMB bumper stickers, total value maybe $10. But my cousin and I felt like we had won the lottery, even though we didn't get farther into the place except the receptionist's desk.
My cousin was an outdoorsy kid but I was a homebody, stuck to my Grandma's side like glue. I would sit at the kitchen table and just watch her create magic at the stove. It seemed like no matter what sort of indistinguishable item she pulled out of the back of the freezer, it was transformed into something huge and onolicious once it hit the bottom of the black cast iro.n skillet Her fried chicken was better than the Colonels', her beef tomato was alluring even to us veggie hating kids and 'til this day, I still can't replicate the miso eggplant dish she cooked for me on special occasions. I used to think that my biggest lament was that my Aunty threw my Grandma's wedding kimono in the washing machine (it was supposed to be mine when I got married) and shredded it to bits but now that I have to cook to feed a Jewpanese army, I really wish I had found that cast iron skillet. Not only to cook with but to discipline the kids and Oscar the Grouch when needed. Think Medea.....
Of course, the taste might have had a lot to do with the holy trinity of high blood pressure inducing flavorings - salt, shoyu and Ajinomoto which was in everything Grandma made. However, no skillet or MSG could save the disaterous braised pig kidney dish Grandma made once after the "Mamasan" from church said it would be good for her health.
After lunch, my cousin and my grandpa would go walking to Times or McCully Superette to buy groceries for dinner while Grandma and I would head to the TV Room to watch her favorite "Story", the Young and the Restless. I remember watching the first episode ever of Young and the Restless which featured a young, handsome guy named David Hasselhoff playing Spencer. Back then, the shows were very simplistic in plot and characters - rich people were evil (boo Jill) and poor people were good (everyone who didn't hassle the Hoff) and never the twain should meet. My Grandma would launch into a running commentary during the whole program, treating the show as a real life documentary on the lives of horny haole people and explaining why Japanese folks would never act that way. Her favorite comment was "Men are dogs and they can sniff you out so be careful." Now, being a major dog lover as a child, I did not see why this was a negative but upon reaching puberty, I realized she was right.
My Grandma would take a nap after her stories and my Grandpa would do something that required him to climb up one of his six mango trees so my cousin and I would spend the bulk of our afternoons trying to figure out ways to keep ourselves entertained. We would go into the back yard and put on shows. More specifically, she would watch and I would pretend to be Jerry Lewis AND Dean Martin. Totally schizo when you think about it. We spent many a day digging up potato bugs in the dirt and putting them into cans (yes, we set them free but I never have quite figured out why this was such a fun thing to do) or picking up mangos that fell on the ground. If we were really really stuck for entertainment, we'd go in the house and read Better Homes and Gardens, Sports Illustrated or US News and World Report which were the only magazines Grandpa allowed in the house. Occasionally, one of my uncles would sneak in a Life Magazine and it would be quickly removed. This was due to us seeing the issue that featured photos of the people in Japan who were deformed from Mercury poisoning - resulting in both of us waking up SCREAMING that same night.
The highlight of every week would be taking Grandma to Dr. Bachman's Office at Ala Moana for her "hormone" shot. Our whole family loved Dr. Bachman who was referred to by our family as the "ching ching doctor" or "Dr. Penguin". While Grandma was at the doctors, Grandpa would take us to Keiki Land where he'd yell at us the whole time to warn us of the hidden dangers of each ride. If we put our hands out of the flying saucers, we'd whack them on the ceilings and break them. If we put our fingers in the water of the boat or stick them out of the Ferris Wheel cage, they'd get sliced off. If we honked the horn on the tanks too much, we'd be deaf. No wonder I still have PTSD when I go to an amusement park. If we waved, we'd fall off the Merry Go Round and crack out heads open. We were not allowed to play any of the games because only the "low class bad people" played pinball or bowling. In fact, we could not even venture near that area withoug Grandpa going into convulsions. Reading this, it sounds like a horrible experience but it was really fun and my first taste of rebellion. We'd watch Grandpa's every move and when he turned his back, we'd engage in one of the forbidden hazardous activities.
Our reward for being such good girls who didn't do what Grandpa said not to do was a doughnut of our choice from Dunkin' Donuts. Back then, being told we could choose from not only the regular doughnuts but also one with sprinkles or (ooh, luxury) one of the filled ones made us feel like we were living large. Surely that's what the rich people in Young and Restless ate, apple filled jelly donuts with cinnamon sugar.
Later, when McDonalds opened in Ala Moana, Grandpa took us there for our post-Keiki Land snack. He would always stump the cashiers by ordering "that potato thing that is fried" instead of ordering french fries. Who would have thought that but a few years later, he would have mastered the McD's menu enough to order "a filet of fish sandwich, no cheese, extra sauce and a chocolate shake with extra milk"? I'm sure the ancestors were churning up their ashes in the urns when the Chonan preferred American food to nishime from Shirokiya.
Now, contrast this to Mad Cow who on a recent visit to Ala Moana asked if we could have lunch at Mortons because he wanted to eat filet mignon (yes, he said it by name). Had to settle for Genki Sushi yet again as we still have a stash of gift certificates that Oscar won in a Star Bulletin auction.
Ah, perspective is everything!
My top five favorite summer moments:
1) Learning to make Mango Pineapple Jam by scratch from Grandma
2) Watching the Diva's DHT performances, esp. the one where she sang in the shower to "I Enjoy Being a Girl"
3) Going to The Professor's art show at the Academy of Arts
4) Seeing the Mad Cow's face light up as he waved to his Grandmas and Grandpas in the 100th during this year's Fourth of July parade
5) Sitting on the bench at Waiola Shave Ice on a hot afternoon with the three kids - eating and not fighting
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