Fishy Forgiveness : Thirty-Eight Dead Daffodils

Thirty-eight.

That is how many one-inch stemmed daffodils my two oldest boys picked today from our landlord’s garden. I am really sad because it was my older kids who know better, but chose to picked the flowers anyway.

I found out about the flowers when one of my sons brought two of them to me for my windowsill.

Recognizing that they were not our daffodils, which would have been easier to overlook, but instead the frilly ones from the landlord’s driveway-ditch garden, I ran out to to the garage only to find the boys whacking a heap of daffodil heads with sticks.

When caught, the boys claimed they had been picked for me. However, if they had intended to be given as a gift, I don’t understand how mutilating the petals with sticks would make them more presentable.

Shocked by the size of the pile, I counted the flowers while the boys watched.

The landlord came out of his blue-tarp covered shed and walked over towards us. I bowed deeply and apologized for the destruction of his flowers. I made the boys bow and also offer a more formal apology.

The landlord laughed. His ancient face wrinkled into a thousand lines.

He shrugged and said in English, “Okay!” He then reached down to a clump of growing daffodils, plucked them by the heads and threw them on the ground. I said, “No no no… gomen nasai … Not okay!”

I am pretty sure he understood what I meant, but I honestly did not understand his response. It was certainly not an acknowledgment of the apologies, and I couldn’t tell if he really didn’t care or if he was pissed off about the flowers and was showing me that there was nothing that could be done to save them at that point.

I marched the boys into our house, disciplined them, and then reviewed the obvious rules for playing outside which included, “stay out of the rice fields and irrigation channels” and “don’t take things that are not yours.”

Later, the landlord brought over a large, pungent, dried headless fish as a gift.

Tabitha gave him a handful of teriyaki-flavored dried squid tentacle snacks in return.

He thanked her and wolfed them down happily.

As for what to do next? I will probably write up an apology and ask a friend to translate it for me. I think it will recognize the hard work the landlord has put into his gardens and apologize for their picking the flowers without asking. It needs to be in real Japanese, not my undoubtedly poorly pronounced attempt to communicate.

Even if it turns out that landlord doesn’t care, it is never ‘okay’ for my children to take things that do not belong to them, no matter how well-intentioned.

I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with this fish.