The Nagasawa Chain Of Command
Wednesday - January 17, 2007
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Del.icio.usI think that every family, like the military, has a chain of command. In our household, I seem to be at the wrong end of the chain, for if mud runs downhill, guess whose boots are full of it? Our chain actual seems to start from outside the family.
The other Saturday my wife and 9-year-old daughter were at the kitchen table. For some reason, our daughter’s fourth-grade teacher had assigned what we thought was an excessive amount of homework. My wife felt it was necessary to work through the weekend to get it done.
After some grueling hours over the schoolbooks, our daughter finally broke down and was getting rather testy with her mother. This caused my wife to get upset, because besides the guff our daughter was giving her, this was also cutting into time we normally set aside for family recreation.
Our 17-year-old son was walking through the kitchen, and my wife questioned whether he had any homework for the weekend. No way was the suffering going to be limited to mother and daughter, so my wife told him that he gets it done right away or forget about going out that night.
He said something like, “Jeez!” and stormed off into his room. Just then my mom walked into the kitchen and noticed that the kitchen garbage can was full. Normally it’s my son’s job to empty it, but since he was hibernating in his room, my mom turned to me.
She snapped at me, “Ron, the garbage is full. Take it outside!”
I whipped around so that I could yell at someone, but realized I was at the end of the frustration chain. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw our daughter’s 7-month-old pet tortoise, Sammy. I looked at him and yelled, “What are you looking at?”
Sgt. Gerald Orosco
WELCOME HOME
Instead of a website this week, I wanted to take this opportunity to welcome home Sgt. Gerald Orosco of Mililani. He recently returned from duty in Iraq with the U.S. Army Reserve. You might recall that Gerald’s father had written to me saying that Gerald and other Hawaii troops then stationed in Kirkuk, Iraq, wanted to receive copies of MidWeek. They said that reading MidWeek was like having a piece of home. As our most distant MidWeek subscribers, we managed to send copies every week to them in Iraq.
We’re glad that he made it home safely, and are honored that MidWeek played some small part in giving them comfort while serving our country.
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