🌙 The Wanwan Boy is Watching the Basket

Things that Reiwa girls are obsessed with—in terms of food, it's gummies. In terms of stickers, it's Bondro. In terms of palm-sized items, it's the Merojoy mochi-toro squeeze toy.

However, I don't follow trends that closely. I have to manage the household. I have to manage the family budget. The little bit of money my husband earns by melting away the time of his life easily tries to ooze out from between my fingers. It's just like that gooey slime.

If only it had the elasticity of a Merojoy, even if it were soft, and kept its original shape, I would be overjoyed, but these hard coins don't even become squeeze toys; they melt away somewhere without even making a clinking sound.

I think I'll talk about gummies today.
Of course, I know full well that it's cheaper to buy them at a supermarket, but as someone who works until late in the evening, I don't have the time to go out of my way to a supermarket just to buy gummies for a minor errand, so I end up using the "FamilyMart" right in front of my house. Even though that is the primary reason why coins turn into slime, convenience stores contribute to the time-performance of Reiwa Japanese people and
display products at prices about 20% higher than supermarkets.

Therefore, on days off like today, I want to shop as economically as possible without using convenience stores. In any case, I consider it a housewife's skill to figure out how to get the "gummies" that my eldest daughter loves. (Please don't tell me that buying gummies is a waste of money.) So, I decide to try the Daiso that opens at 9:00 AM near my house.

I take a look at the 100-yen snack corner. Recently, there have been many unusual gummies from Korea. Peeling ones, long ones, eyeball ones—I don't really understand them anymore, but gummies are increasingly emphasizing their individuality.

However, I don't pay attention to such individuality.
It's for the household budget. First, I grab a bag and check its weight.
"Hmm, it's got some weight to it."
Thinking that, I flip the bag over to check the net content.
It's best to quickly calculate the average unit price per gram, look for the cheapest ones possible, and quickly buy about four bags.

If you buy them at a convenience store, they cost 150 yen for about 35 grams. But at Daiso, you can buy about double the amount of gummies for 100 yen. That is the"Sour Great Strategy Gummies."They are lemon-flavored, 70 grams for 100 yen. Until very recently, I thought that was thecheapest one.

But recently, an incredibly nostalgic little boy has come to Daiso!!

The Wanwan Boy.He is by no means the star of the baby world on NHK, the dog with green floppy ears whose "person inside is nearing their 70s."

This Wanwan Boy has an inscrutable face. He looks a bit like Nobita-kun, and while he is laughing with his mouth wide open, it also looks like he is sticking his tongue out, or perhaps he is just grinning with his mouth wide open, but his gaze is directed toward somewhere else entirely. What on earth is he looking at? Moreover, in the full-body version, he is wearing a mysterious tank top. In the Reiwa era, if you were to take a toddler for a walk in a tank top, you would be looked at with a bit of suspicion.

That's right. From our perspective, he is a boy who is nothing but uncomfortable. This is what we call the Wanwan Boy.

These Wanwan Boy gummies are a much better deal than the "Sour Great Strategy" lemon flavor from earlier.
There are 20 grams per small bag in a 5-pack. In other words, 100 grams for 100 yen. That's 1 yen per gram. And they are orthodoxly delicious. The texture isn't too hard, and the size is small, so there's no worry about children choking on them. They are cheap and there are no safety issues. The ingredients of the gummies also look fine at a glance (though I'm sure I'm being looked at with suspicion by natural-leaning moms).

So, at 9:15 AM, I firmly grabbed one pack each of these three types of Wanwan Boy gummies, and while I was at it, I reached for the "Sour Great Strategy" ones too. Then I was startled. In the upper left of the black bag of "Sour Great Strategy," a small "Wanwan Boy" was standing there. He was looking off into the distance while grinning at me.

"...You've finally noticed my existence. Heh heh heh."

A chill ran down my spine for a moment. It was a horror as if a caterpillar were crawling on me. Why was that? I would like to share the relationship between me and this boy in Part 2.

Back to the story. Today's morning activity: the Daiso gummy patrol was about to end with cold sweat like this. At the checkout counter, when I thought about shining the product barcode in front of the scanner's red light, I noticed something. A lot of products were bustling inside the shopping basket. When on earth did the shopping basket become like a crowded bus? It wasn't the Wanwan Boy. It was undoubtedlymy fault.

The Wanwan Boy's mysterious gaze must have been on the contents of my shopping basket. It's too much, isn't it? At this rate, I still can't go "Wanwan" (woof woof).

And so, my husband's little salary turned into slime.

🌙

▼Part 2