Wednesday, 1 December 2010

Screw the diet pills...

I'm going on the 'My husband is an absolute wanker! diet.'

No, not really, although if we had arguments every day like we did the other night I would be a supermodel by the end of the year! I've found that if Ryota and I have an argument I lose all my appetite, even if could have eaten the crotch out of a low flying duck before the argument, I'll feel totally sick after a tiff. I've informed Ryota that if I look porky again any time soon he is to immediately pick a fight with me, the more trivial the better! Destructive marriage behaviour 101 right there...

It wasn't so much the actual argument that got me pissed off but it was the fact it made me think about my whole life and the system we were going by. Gotta hate it when thought is provoked, if only I was a simple trailer park girl whose biggest worry was what daytime soap to watch! Anyway, what happened was, I had to work until 8pm the other night, which by Japanese standards isn't anywhere near late, but is quite late for the one who has to organise the whole house or it turns into utter chaos. Anyway, I had prepared dinner earlier in the day when I'd had a break between lessons and it was in the oven ready to heat up but my bad, I didn't mail Ryota to tell him this. So Ryota got home at 6pm, as he does every night (VERY early for the usual J-guy!) and was cheesed off that the kitchen appeared bare and both him and Ash were grumpy and hungry. OK, first of all, poor fucking baby! Deal with it bitch, it's not that hard to pull something out of the freezer and shove it in the microwave! Or order in, I don't give a fuck. Now this is irrelevant, as I had made dinner, but he didn't know this at this point.

So fast-forward to about 8:15 when I shuffled in the door, tired and sick as a dog with some vicious cold and get absolutely no response from Ryota, who looked frazzled and irritated as all fuck. This is how it went:

Me: Hey, how was your day?

Him: OK. ........................... ..................... *scowly face*

Me: What's wrong, why are YOU pissed??

Him: Where's my fucking dinner, and Ash's fucking dinner!?

OK, he actually had the balls to say 'fucking' as well. That was when I immediately hit the roof and started quizzing him if he knew what year it was, you can't just say things like that to women anymore, we're likely to cut your penis off with a carving knife for that shit. I also pointed out the awesome looking gratin in the oven, chips ready to be oven baked and salad in the fridge. He went quiet then and muttered a sorry but I swear he still looked pissed off. I then tried to tell him calmly that despite the fact I had actually made dinner, even if I hadn't, he needed to lose the pampered Japanese boy routine and man the fuck up and cook something without whinging like a pussy bitch about it. He then told me the reason he was so pissed off was that there was a big plate of choc-chip muffins I'd baked on the kitchen table (errrr hello, wife of the year, wouldn't most men be happy with that!?) and he thought I'd baked muffins but hadn't cooked dinner. First of all, I'm not that dense, or fond of baking for that matter and second, who the fuck does he think I made those buttery, sugary choc-chippy goodness filled muffins for!? Certainly not this diet queen!!! Mother fucking ungrateful shit he is.

So turns out it was actually a misunderstanding on his part and a lack of communication on mine, but I couldn't let it go. I spent the next 24 hours contemplating the fact that in our house I am responsible for:
-All the housework, as in everything.
-Getting Ash ready in the morning.
-Giving Ash a bath (he dresses him afterwards)
-All grocery/clothes/household shopping.
-Dropping off and picking up Ash from kindy.
-All kindy bullshit duties like meetings and open days.
-Organising and cooking dinner every night.
-Putting the rubbish out (usually the man's job!!!)
-Running a business by myself, in a language that isn't my own.

And I got to thinking that it was slightly fucked up! So I huffed off to bed without dinner that night and then took 24 hours of silent, awkward interactions. The next day we had a big talk and came to the decision that on days I finished later than 7 or was really busy, Ryota is in charge of cooking. Of course he'll need 4 weeks in advance notice and for me to buy everything and then clean up after him, but fuck it he's going to have to do something!

Marrying the oldest son in a Japanese family is really quite tough, I'm still hacking away at those bastard apron strings!


  1. Your post made me very angry. I looked at your list of "responsibilities" and they are the same as mine but I am a single parent, I live on my own and I know that there isn't anyone around to help me. It is ridiculous (but not that surprising if I think back to my life in Japan) that you are still expected to cook dinner/do all the shopping when you are running around working practically full-time and coming back later than him. If he was coming back later than you then fair enough but it is insane that he gets in a strop when you haven't cooked dinner for him when he is home before you.

    BUT like I said, that is my "been back in the UK for 3 years" point of view. If I rewind to 4 years ago, I was doing the same amount of running around and dealing with my arsehole of an ex. I need to remind myself how much easier life is now when I am having a bad day! LOL! If you don't know Japanese culture then your post would make me think "WTF? Why is she having to do all that crap? Is it the 1950s?" but then I remember that in Japan it IS the 1950s as far as women's lib goes!

    I have come to the conclusion that 90% of all men need to be trained. There is the odd guy out there whose mother trained him first (but they will usually be the product of a single mother or their Dad will have been an awesome example, like my brother) and none of those guys are in Japan! ;-) I have noticed that Mal will do stuff to help me but only if I tell him to do it. We have already agreed to getting a cleaner if we move in together! :-)

    I feel your pain but I am glad that you have a husband who is willing to listen to you when you explain what needs to be done! ;-)

  2. Can I just say your blog is absolutely awesome? I got to your blog thru a another blog I occasionally read - and ended up reading the whole thing because your writing is so funny.

  3. I'm sorry, but I think this is a Japanese man thing. My friend used to get home at 11 after finishing work at 10 and driving an hour home. It never once occured to her husband to get himself something to eat. He would sit there until she got home, watch her cook him something and then watch her wash the dishes. He got home at 6pm most nights. I'd have let him starve.

  4. Oh....I hear you.

    Can I send you my J-man? he cooks and shops better than me....and we take turns to wash up.....

    I appreciate him, oh I appreciate him.
    It all just about makes up for the gungy bathroom floor, the empty beer cans on the table and the farting.

  5. If you have not seen the movie Pleasantville, you will pee yourself.