I wish you hadn't come home!

It was a sudden event.

That day, I returned from work as usual and opened the front door of our home, where I expected my husband and son to already be.
On my way home, I had been subjected to a lot of gossip about people around me at work that I didn't really want to hear (and I felt like the target had shifted to me at the end), so I was feeling a bit down.
Even my greeting of "I'm home" sounded listless, even to my own ears.

From beyond the door leading to the living room, I heard my son's voice.
"Mommy, you're late!!"
For a split second, I wondered if he was happy that I had come home just in time for dinner.

But as I listened, it was clearly something else. The tone of his voice and his phrasing sounded extremely dissatisfied.
"Mommy, you're late!!!!! Mommy, you're late!!!!!!!"
When I looked at my son's face, he had an expression that seemed to say, "Why did you come home?!" and he finally burst into tears.
Then, he said, while furious.

"Mommy, you shouldn't have come home!! It was better when you were outside!! I wish you hadn't come home!!!!"

Oh, no. Seriously...

My husband tried to soothe him, but my son's anger showed no signs of subsiding.
Even when I suggested we all eat dinner together, he stubbornly insisted while crying, "Today is just for the two of us! We aren't doing a three-person dinner! Mommy, you aren't allowed to eat dinner!!"

Perhaps he was just lonely because my husband was working the day before and couldn't be with him, and today his "I'm with Daddy!" feelings just went a bit too far. (Like an overly clingy girlfriend)

What am I, anyway?

This feeling sprouted within me for the first time in a while.

When he was about a year and a half old and started talking, my son would often tell me, "I don't want Mommy! I want Daddy!"
That was right around the time work started getting busy (and it hasn't really settled down even now), my return times were getting later, and I was losing my composure. It was a period when I started struggling because I couldn't balance work and childcare as I had hoped, and I was often called by the nursery school because my child was feeling unwell.
Because I was always holding onto these muddled feelings, I couldn't even greet my child with a smile. "I don't want Mommy!" were words directed at me while I was always wearing such a gloomy face, but every time he said it, I was deeply hurt and often felt depressed, wondering why.

Now that my child is three, I've gotten used to it, and I thought I had toughened up my mentality enough to just think, "Well, say what you want."
But today's full-on rejection is quite hard to take.
Especially since I was still dragging around the frustration from work.Who in the world even needs me?

Fine, I get it. You're better off without Mommy, right?

As if I were a sulking child running away from home, I went back outside. Oh, I want to cry. (Or rather, I'm already crying.)

It isn't snowing, but it's still cold after 6:00 PM.
I somehow climbed onto my bicycle. I headed off aimlessly, being careful of the packed snow remaining here and there on the sidewalk.

Fortunately, the area where I live is quite urban for this city and close to tourist spots. There are several shops I can reach by bicycle, and it would be possible to kill time by going into a warm shop and having a drink until I get my son's permission to return.

But if I go in while feeling this down, I'll probably just end up waiting for a message from my husband. It wouldn't be fun, would it?

Maybe I should just go into an izakaya alone and eat whatever I want. I haven't eaten dinner alone at night even once since my child was born.

When I arrived in front of a small local izakaya, it seemed to be open for business.No, but it would still feel empty, wouldn't it?

I couldn't find the courage.

At that moment, I suddenly had an idea. I took out my smartphone and sent a LINE message to a friend.

Sorry for the sudden message, but do you have any plans to eat out somewhere tonight?

My mood gradually started to change. It's a night out, after all. Wouldn't it be better to enjoy it?

The person I was messaging is a slightly younger female friend I became close with in the city wind orchestra I used to belong to. She is a very precious person who still contacts me occasionally even after I left the orchestra.
I had heard before that this easygoing friend of mine, perhaps because she lives alone, researches local restaurants and eats out quite often. Maybe she would accept such a sudden invitation and join me for dinner.

For a while, there was no 'read' receipt, and thinking, 'Well, it is too sudden,' I started riding my bicycle again to head home.
My husband and son should be finishing dinner soon. My mood has lifted a bit, so let's just leave it at that.

It was when I returned to the bicycle parking area of my apartment building.
My friend's call came through.
Oh, are we going somewhere together? I was thinking of having some ramen.

Oh, my intuition, good job!

At the same time, a LINE message came from my husband.
My son says it's okay for Mom to come home.
It seems I have been granted permission.

Now, what should I do? Should I just call it a day and go home?
Does my son really want me to come home?

I hung up on my friend for a moment and thought about it, but I immediately called my husband back.

Can I go eat dinner with a friend? I found someone who could join me.

If it's come to this, I'm going to enjoy myself to the fullest.

My husband readily said, 'Sure.' I could also hear my son's voice in the background saying, 'It's okay.' (It seems his mood has improved.)

Thus, I went out for dinner with my friend for the first time in a while.

We met at a nearby parking lot and decided on a Chinese restaurant.
I ordered the shrimp chili set, which I don't usually get to eat.
The shrimp were plump, and the chili sauce went perfectly with the rice. It was definitely a flavor I couldn't make at home.
I chose a slightly spicy ramen for the set.
Since I had been avoiding spicy food while recovering from being unwell, the spice felt great after so long.
I had a little bit of the twice-cooked pork my friend ordered.
The vegetables were crunchy, and the sweet and spicy miso flavor was addictive.
Above all, the happiness of being able to eat something someone else made, and freshly cooked at that, slowly.

I don't have to think about what my son can eat.
I don't have to share.
I can eat dessert by myself without being scolded.
As the night deepens, we can just keep chatting the whole time.

It's fine, your son gave you permission, he told you to go enjoy your dinner.

She said that and listened to me talk about my work frustrations and my son's 'no' phase the whole time.
I managed to avoid eating alone! And I got to come to a restaurant I was curious about! I wouldn't know if it was okay to enter if I were alone~
She said that and seemed happy.

Wednesday night. I feel a little guilty thinking about tomorrow and beyond, but just for today.
Remembering those days when I used to go out for drinks with friends after work.

It was truly a fleeting moment. The depressed feeling I had when I left the house had completely vanished.
Surely tomorrow is another day. I don't need to worry about it so much, it'll be fine.

When I asked my husband later, he said that when it was time for bed, my son, perhaps not realizing I wouldn't be home, muttered, 'I want Mom to come home...' and fell asleep.
How cute (lol).

My son, I was a little hurt and confused by your words, but thanks to them, I was able to spend some precious time.
Thank you to my husband for letting me go without saying anything, and to my friend for accepting my invitation.

And I felt like I wanted to praise myself a little for being able to change my mindset like that.
I've become thick-skinned, haven't I? Good for me, keep it up.