Christmas Eve

But the sheer force of habit I was compelled to motivate us to partake in some kind of ‘special’ Christmas Eve dinner. Of course, for my Japanese wife this day (and the next for that matter) has little personal significance with deep lifetime memories of giddy anticipation, so it was on me to mark the occasion. Through his school, Kaia has been introduced to Santa and knows that presents go under the tree, so I thought that it would be best to go to the 5 star hotel—The Le Meridien, which is incidentally owned by out next-door neighbors and has a restaurant called “Kaya”--that boasted the largest Christmas tree in the city with a huge Santa in his sleigh made entirely of milk chocolate. They were also serving a special dinner with “imported turkey” and other foodstuffs that, I guess, folks associate with this holiday—like honey glazed ham and lamb shanks. It sounded like a descent option, so we set off for a late holiday dinner at around 7:30 pm (we usually eat at 6:30).

As it turned out, the hotel offered everything that they said they were. The large, open lobby area was decked out to the nine in Christmas cheer and a lean, dark skinned Santa roamed the ground, handing out chocolates to just about everyone. A group of children sang carols to piano accompaniment and it did have a seasonal feel. Kaia was really enjoying himself, that is, until we walked into the restaurant.

We had actually dined there once before—it’s a pretty extensive buffet with all kinds of foods, ranging from Chinese to Western to Indian. This evening, of course, they were also serving carved turkey and ham, so the choices were looking good. The problem for Kaia stemmed from the fact that they had dimmed the lights (‘candlelight dinner’) and placed party hats, masks and noise makers on each place setting—something that you might expect more for a New Year’s dinner. You see, Kaia just HATES masks. They freak him out. It likely stems from an incident at the local amusement park, where they employ dwarfs to dress up as clowns and walk around, much in the way that you see Disney characters walking the grounds at Disneyland. I don’t know if it was because these costumed little people were near to eye level of Kaia, but when one skipped up to greet him, he just freaked out in a way that I had never seen, as he attempted to scurry to the top of my head like a terrified cat. Perhaps this incident scarred him to the point where he cannot bear to see anyone in such costume (coulrophobia?), but there have been a few other incidents that have either extended or reinforced his dislike.

So, from the moment that he saw the masks and various people wearing them, any hopes of a nice, peaceful family dinner were dashed. During these times, it becomes a food shoveling contest where I eat as fast as I can, while my wife tends to him, and then once I am done, I take over and shuttle him off to a different place. I hardly had a chance to enjoy the odd turkey loaf or the marbled (read—layered in fat) ham. Oh well, this was it was probably a more memorable dinner. Anyway, poor little guy was so scared that we couldn’t even eat afterward in the lobby.

Why I Love this Time: Frog’s vacation in Japan.