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It was a dark and stormy night…

Actually, it was more dark and humid. And loud. Seriously, this year the illegal aerial importers thought it’d be frickin’ hilarious if they all imported the same shipments of loud bomb-like fireworks for the residents of Oahu to burn up as if there was no such thing as a bad economy. I felt like I was in a warzone all day, with some jerks a couple streets down thinking it was okay to keep up the BOOM! noises until 3 am.

But anyway, back to my story… I heard a noise in the kitchen and in my groggy, blind-without-contacts stupor, I looked around and saw nothing. Only when I woke up to fry some mochi did I find out what the noise was. My bento boxes had escaped the cabinet and begun their attack…


I was terrified.

I’d left so many of them on the counter with leftover food in them… Were they finally going to get their revenge? Had I eaten my last onigiri? They poured out of the cabinet, eager to find me. Naturally, I did the only thing I could.

I ran and hid in my closet.

As I cowered in fear, I heard one of my children wake up and call out for me. Too scared to come out of hiding, I listened. Suddenly I heard Baby Girl cry out in fear. There were sounds of a struggle. Knowing that I couldn’t leave her to the rabid things, I steeled myself and emerged from the closet.

What I found was horrifying.


Baby Girl lay still on the floor, bento boxes all over her. I clamped my hand over my mouth, fearing they’d hear me breathing. I thought she was gone.


Thankfully, she was still alive. She weakly waved her hand at me and I tossed the boxes off of her and we both returned to the closet to hide. We sat there in the dark for who knows how long. Eventually, I heard something moving again. In my hurry to get Baby Girl to the safety of the closet, I’d forgotten about Buddy!!


We rushed out of the closet and found him in a similar state as I’d found her, covered in wild, frantic bento boxes. Strangely enough, a Spiderman bento box covered his face.

As we fought to rescue Buddy, the boxes realized that I, the one they had been searching for all along, was finally within their grasp. They quickly turned from Buddy and surged on to me.


That Little Red Riding Hood box was particularly vicious.

In the end, Mr. Pikko came and saved us all and after threatening to store them in the dumpster, they began to quiver in fear. Together we corralled them back into the kitchen. I gave them a little New Year’s promise that I’d take better care of them and… stop buying more of them… and they calmed down and went dutifully back into the cabinet.


I didn’t count them, though I definitely should have. Confidentially, I think I can fit at least a dozen more in here.

We’ll let that be our little secret. 😉

No children or bento boxes were harmed in the making of this blog post.