My husband was in town for a hot second this past weekend. He lives in Tokyo and is paving the way for The Boy and me to move there this summer. We’re all really excited, and nervous, and there’s more than a little anxiety and second-guessing involved. But with him in town, we decided that since it’s springtime now (hint, hint, weather!) I would pack up some winter clothes and send them home to Tokyo in my husband’s luggage.
So, I pulled a bunch of my sweaters, and my heaviest scarves out of my closet and folded them into a suitcase. There was still room, and since The Boy is growing like a weed, packing his clothes seems like a slight waste of time. So instead of clothes, I asked him to go through his stuffed animals and pick a couple to send ahead of us. He rifled through his mountain of stuffies and came back with all his Murlocs. What can I say, that’s our boy!
The other thing I asked him to do is pick 5 English language books to send ahead since books in Japanese will be easy enough to come by. He started pulling books off shelves like he’d forgotten how to count, and frankly, I can’t blame him. I mean, how do you narrow it down? I mean, they’re books, people! It’s like choosing your favorite kid! (Okay, I only have the one, but you know what I mean.)
My family has always had a book collecting habit. It honestly can sometimes approach hoarding levels before we have an enforced cull of old textbooks and airport novels we didn’t love so much really. We have a bookshelf in every room of our house, except the bathroom, because steam + paper is kind of a mess. In fact, in the house I grew up in the basement was divided up into rooms via bookshelves placed back-to-back!
So I had to take a deep breath and find my inner minimalist and rein my son in a bit. No doubt I’ll end up getting him a Kindle or some other international-travel-friendly solution, but for now, we have some non-negotiable tomes to transport. The Star Power books are, apparently, essential to The Boy’s well being. A couple of My Little Pony books. Some Ricky Ricotta stories. He seems content with the selection we settled on, and they all fit nicely between my thick wool sweater and my winter coat. Now I just need to look at my own bookshelves and make some choices.
I don’t know if I can do this…