AllergyEZ
Your child's allergies as a card in the local language — including the local words for what hides an allergen. Dashi in Japanese broth. Nam pla in a Thai curry. "No nuts" doesn't cover it.
HopHop is the umbrella for the small platforms we build for our own kids — and share with yours. Safety and advocacy for children come first, in every decision, every time.
Your child's allergies as a card in the local language — including the local words for what hides an allergen. Dashi in Japanese broth. Nam pla in a Thai curry. "No nuts" doesn't cover it.
Gives kids the words when speaking up for themselves is hard — at a sleepover, in a classroom, anywhere a grown-up needs to hear them before it boils over.
The pouch has room. When our kids show us the next thing they need, we'll build that too.
No ads, no upsell, no tier that unlocks keeping a child safe. Everything we've shipped is free to use, and it stays that way for as long as we can carry it.
No accounts where we can possibly help it, nothing that follows you anywhere, no data to leak because we never collected it.
Where translations are machine-drafted, every card says so — until a native speaker has checked them.
This runs on our own money, earned elsewhere, keeping the midnight oil topped up. One day Stefi and I would love to be in a position to properly give back. We're not there yet, and we'd rather say so than dress it up.
I write the code, and the infrastructure and the 2am pages are mine too. Stefi has everything that isn't code — the idea that turns into the next product, the words we use in public, and the first honest read on whether a thing actually helps a child. What we build and who it's for is the four of us. Not prototypes. Live software with real families depending on it, held to the standard I'd hold a team to.
By day I'm a software engineer. But the titles doing the work on this page are Mum and Dad — every one of these started because one of our own kids needed it, and they're still the roadmap. The engineering is how it gets built; being their parents is why it gets built at all, and their opinions are the ones that change it.
"No accounts, nothing to follow you with" isn't a privacy policy — it's an architecture. Get it right and there is no breach to have.
Two platforms live before either had a roadmap. The users were in my house; the feedback loop was dinner.
Machine-drafted translations say so on the card. Surfacing a limitation beats quietly being wrong about an allergen.
One pair of hands on the keyboard, one on everything around it. The kids find what's confusing before any user does, and nothing ships that the family hasn't argued about first.
I'm not looking for the next job. I'm looking for the right one: a team where hard problems get owned rather than assigned, where the people using the software are real to everyone building it, and where "we won't ship that" is a sentence an engineer is allowed to say. If that's yours, I'd like to hear about it.
Everything here runs on our own money and our nights and weekends — hosting, native-speaker review, domains, and the hours it takes to think these up and build them. Support doesn't buy a better version of what's already here; it's what pays for the next feature and the next product, and it's what lets all of it stay free while that still makes sense.
So the ask is a simple one: if you're able to support, please do. We'll listen to what you tell us and put it back into making these better for everyone.