On July 4th, the weather forecast showed a zero chance for rain as I headed out with the kids. Lydia was having me answer a series of questions starting with “How many steps does it take to put an elephant in the refrigerator (three) and ending with “How many steps does it take to put the elephant in the refrigerator with the kangaroo (I won’t spoil it for you). Elisa and Aidan were chatting excitedly as I asked Aidan’s help as booked a car via Uber. ...

It is the last Sunday in June. The weather is hot and humid and smoggy. It is not yet as hot and humid and smoggy as it will be in a couple of weeks but it is bad enough that there is little motivation to venture outside. Outside of the air conditioning. I tell the kids to take a break from their iPads and they all comply. They are remarkably easy this way. 10 minutes later, however, they are bored to death. I take out a pad of actual paper and ask Elisa if she wants to play tic-tac-toe. A joyous “yes”. ...

Lydia is in a post nap funk and is mad at Aidan for being Aidan while we wait for the elevator. Aidan is annoyed at Lydia for being mad at him. “I didn’t do anything”, he says. Lydia said, “yes, he did, he’s always talking.” On the ride down from the 8th floor I tell Aidan that you need to notice when someone is not in a good mood and give them some space. I tell Lydia that she needs to notice when she’s not in a good mood and pull back on some of her frustrations. It seems to have no effect. ...

Move to the old house Wendy was 12,she’s poor.She lives with her mom Pandora and they lived in a small house,the house was small as your bathroom! One day,Pandora ask Wendy,“Oh Wendy,will you likes to live in a big house for 3or4 weeks?” “Yes"answer Wendy.“Then that’s great!Pack your things you’r going to move to an old house!“said Pandora.When Wendy was wondering what is happening,her mom has already pack her things—some old clothes and some other things. ...

While we are waiting for the elevator Aidan and Lydia are teasing each other and Elisa moves in and out of their dynamic. Eight floors down and out the door into the street. Downtown Beijing we are, except there isn’t really a such thing as downtown Beijing so my crowded neighborhood is one of a dozen that can lay claim. Elisa bounds ahead doing a kind of skip walk. Aidan, football in hands runs ahead and Lydia stands at my side telling me a story she is writing. Aidan gets 15 yards in front, turns and throws me the football. My body turns towards it slowly and without grace. I grab the ball and throw it back to him. He catches it, runs a bit, and we repeat. As we get close to the busy intersection - one scattered with carts, bicycles, scooters, taxis, cars, buses, and people - I yell out “Elisa, wait!” and she stops and yells back “I know”. ...

Aidan is lagging behind me and the girls as we make our way to the subway. He didn’t eat this morning which is a rare event. He is zombie like as we buy our three kuai subway tickets make our way to the line 6 platform. While we wait for the train I ask him if everything is ok since clearly it is not. He makes a non-committal and barely verbal noise. I ask him if he’s upset because his mom just left on a snowboarding trip to Japan and he has to stay here in Beijing. He says he doesn’t want to talk about it. I text his mom who just landed on Japan and it seems it is my fault. ...

I am really bad with gifts but with a small epiphany I realized Aidan’s birthday gift this year would be drop dead easy. A Warrior’s Curry jersey or an official American football. With two trips to the US between this epiphany and Aidan’s birthday I would come through this time. Which is how, I found myself, on the eve of Chinese New Year’s and three days before his before his birthday biking to the official NBA store in Beijing. Except the store wasn’t there; it had moved some distance away. I managed to get to the new location the next day and they had a handful, like six, pathetic jerseys including Shawn Kemp’s Seattle Sonic’s jersey (Kemp last played for Seattle in 1997), Dennis Rodman Bull’s jersey, and Derrick’s Rose 2015 All Star jersey (Rose was not part of the game). The store, while looking promising on the outside, looked like a fraud on the inside. I ended up buying Aidan a Warrior’s hipster hat which was one of two Warrior’s items they carried (for what it’s worth, the nearby MLB store is almost as worthless for Giant’s fans). On the day of Aidan’s birthday, I took Aidan to the massive Adidas store (largest in the world?) in Beijing’s Sanlitun area. The NBA section was on the first floor and they had a full rack of jerseys and from a distance you could see a couple of Warrior jerseys. Walk up. Curry, #30. Excellent. Size 2XL which despite my recent adornment of winter fat is way too big for me, not to mention Aidan. We ask if they have any smaller sizes. “No, none”. Ok, when do you expect to get a new order? “Never.” Really, never? For maybe the most popular player and you already sold out the sizes that normal humans wear? “Yes, we are never getting another shipment”. Which, if you’ve been in China for like a week you understand translates to “I don’t know and it’s too much bother to find out, so go away”. I glared at the staff and Lydia gently asked me to calm down. We are good with each other like that. ...

The waitress is listening to the man’s son order a smoothie and macaroni and cheese. No low carb diet for 12 year olds apparently. When it is his turn to to order he can’t decide. Then a feeling of regret and longing and need washes over him. This may be more than the waitress can handle. He’s debating what to order and finally settles on the hummus. He has no idea where that feeling came from but it was there. He was walking away from something good and by something good I mean more than a Cobb salad. Middle age was here. He was alone. He didn’t need to be. He pushed someone away because it just didn’t feel right. ...

I am in Hong Kong waiting in line at a 7-11. It is my turn. I step to the counter. A man whispers in my ear “that won’t be enough”. I was in Hong Kong to renew my visa and go back to work. I had failed on my own. I did not know then that I would be further alone soon. For then, it was just work. I got back to my hotel and took the elevator up to the fifth floor. Elderly Chinese were getting off on the 3rd floor as the hotel apparently had some kind of community center built in. The greeted me in perfect, warm, English which was something I wasn’t used to. ...

I am 48 years old, carrying a bag fill of 7-11 groceries and crossing the street when the rickshaw driver calls out to me. I understand what he is asking even if I do not know a word he is saying for he is speaking in Russian. I don’t know how to tell him in Russian or Chinese that my home is just across the street so I won’t be needing a ride. ...