we’re on our own today and it’s nice to be a bit more leisurely getting dressed and fed. but we’re remarkably efficient and are out of the house by 915. we head in the wrong direction for 15 minutes, course-correct, realize we forgot the camera battery, head back to the machiya, and are off to the Imperial Palace 45 minutes later. i don’t think being leisurely is good for us.
we get to the palace grounds and let doc race til his heart’s content. i cannot believe the amount of energy this kid has. he’s literally running circles around us and doesn’t seem to have any designs on slowing down.
after a couple of good races later, we head into the actual palace. or so we think. i don’t know why i’m always surprised at how restrictive tourist attractions are. a path leads around the palace buildings, about 10% are under construction, and we’re not allowed in any of them. it was kind of a let down. but the outside was great?
we’re really excited for our afternoon. we’ve been purposely not telling the dirty ambulance (it’s back) about going to the railway museum, in case something goes wrong and he’s massively disappointed. we get in the taxi, give the driver the address, and tell the little guy all about the things we’ll do and see there. and then we realize it’s closed on wednesdays. it’s wednesday. fuck. he surprises us with how he handles the change in plans. he’s not happy, but is pretty quickly mollified by promises of going tomorrow and ice cream.
we decide to head to a department store (the one with the basement of food) to grab some yukatas for our littlest friends. we bravely enter the chaos and find the kid’s section with some ease. i think i now instinctively know where to spend money on children. we are helped by a very friendly young woman and through an impressive array of hand gestures, bowing, and nods, pick out our four children’s yukatas and obis. i leave derek to handle the rest of the transaction because thing-one is actively destroying anything he can find and i’m going to buy him a toy to shut him up and keep him occupied because i guess i’m breaking every parenting rule i have on this trip. (side note: don’t go shopping with kids. leave them at home with the nanny. we need a nanny.) we saunter back with our helicopter and a much happier toddler to find derek going, “well, that was expensive.” keep in mind these are basically thin cotton robes, half-size because they’re for kids. he tells me close to a thousand dollars. i giggle and say, “yeah right.” he’s serious. i tell him there’s no way we’re buying them. he’s already handed over the money and they’re being wrapped up.
there’s a reason i’m in charge of our finances.
he ditches me and takes the kids while i try and explain that they must be bonkers and there’s no way i’m paying that and could you please bring me my money back? she’s very sweet and we both apologize profusely, bow a bunch, and i super run away. derek and i resolve to get cheap shit for the toddlers in our lives. sorry guys.
the department store shopping did not agree with mcqueen. he’s been taking out a lot of his frustration on mouse this trip. lots of hitting, pushing, and biting. as i was strapping thunder-thighs into his stroller, elsa chomped him good. i did not react calmly. in fact, i yelled and pulled him off, very abruptly, and plopped him into his stroller. i would’ve received a D- from janet lansbury. the little guy was a bit shook. i tried explaining my reaction and apologized. he responded with, “once we get home, i’m getting a different mommy.” i really need to get him that ice cream i promised.
due to the rain, we hunker down for the rest of the day/night after stopping at the grocery store to get the ice cream that was promised. we watch more frozen and have more noodles for dinner. the theme of the day is: pacify our little dictator.
before bed, we go to take the ice cream out of the freezer and realize it was left out and is now ice cream soup. i literally run to a convenience store to make sure thing-one doesn’t have a conniption. see you tomorrow, kyoto.
Travels with Larson and Co 