That Twin Thing Again......

There you are,feeling so beholden that you just made it out the door that morning with two six month olds,your mission of the day to buy a whole ton of stuff you never even knew existed before motherdom. Sounds simple beyond belief,right?Just put one foot down after the other,yes? In theory no sweat but when you equate in a double pram  that seems to have the gravitational pull of an unnamed heavenly body upon all and sundry within a two kilometre radius,the whole experience can become quite sublime."Twins...look twins."I would hear bellowed,I could almost imagine a man,wearing a red cape,gleefully ringing a bell and singing out "Hear Ye!Hear Ye!Foreign twin mummy approaching. Everyone into positions".People would actually stand in front of me to block my progress and gawp. "Twins?"they'd stammer and I'd push down the retort,'No triplets actually but I left the other one at home'."How old are they?""Six months."More peering down into the pram."And how old is the one in the back?"Clearing my throat,"Well,they're twins so the one in the back is six months old too!"

Sadly,the gravitational pull seemed to have performed a natural lobotomy on a few unfortunate others. "They don't look like twins!" pointing at my two six month old diamonds."What's wrong with the one in the back?He doesn't have any hair..unlike the one in the front".I even had one lady trying to argue with me while we waited at a set of traffic lights that my fraternal twins must be identical as they looked identical.....chubby Bat Boy Baby in his blue outfit with Elvis Presley hair and tiny doll Bat Girl Baby snuggled in pink in the back,as bald as Phil Collins.I remember quite vividly one day,nearly in tears with frustration as about fifteen woman swirled all cooing around the pram,mobile phones hanging out trying to take pictures of the three of us. As every twin mum can tell you,The comments can be shocking and at times,incredibly insensitive.

There was a time when I played,somewhat seriously with the idea of installing a tannoy system on the pram.Even record a 'pilot' of an announcement 'Yes,they are twins.Naturally conceived.In the back is my little girl born at 2684g and in the front my little boy born at 3200g by C-section.They have the same father and  I am sorry I don't remember which sexual position was used but I ate a lot of tofu and yogurt if that helps.Annnnd I feel very blessed to have them in my life'.I used to see movie stars on TV bemoaning the press and strangers intruding on their personal lives."Hey!Stop complaining."I 'd shout at the screen,"At least you get paid heaps to endure it". And throwing a soiled nappy to  console myself a little more.

Bat Boy and Bat Girl are the ripe old age of six and it's been a while since we've had the same level of commotion on an outing...until today."Oh hi,"beamed this man from nowhere in the shopping centre today,"You must be the twins ' mum?" Before I could even open my mouth to form a reply."Oh yes! I am a cleaner at the school your kids go to."About seven people now milling around us,rubbing Bat Boy's and Bat girl's head much to their obvious annoyance.Man bending down to The Booby Slayer in the pram."What's it like being a sister to twins."Turning to me,"I was really astonished that the twins have totally separate personalities,"he gushes to me,"I always thought twins had the same personality,"quickly turning to Bat Boy,"Can you read each other's thoughts?"The silence feels like a giant block of lead and one,judging by the slow expression of utter scorn about to break out on Bat Boy's  face,one that might just pulverise this man's knowledgeable smirk unless I intervene."No he can't,"interjects Bat Girl as I twirl to face her,mortified at what was coming next.."But we can fart and burb at the same time!"All three kids burst into giggles as the adults stand,on two different sides of bewilderment.  Laughing the man,"I read that twins have a great sense of humour too!" as I feel the sudden to urge to plonk him one.

"Right!Must be going,"I apologise,"It's been fun meeting you."We wave goodbye and walk off."I can read your mind,"hisses Bat Boy to Bat Girl."No you can't,"hisses Bat Girl back."Yes,I can!" sneers Bat Boy."If you say that again,I am going to fart you to death."shouts Bat Girl.After admonishing them both,I am grateful that we are probably the only ones in the area who fully understand the implications of 'being farted to death'.

Another Glorious Scorcher."It's bloody boiling!"

Woke up marinating in my own brine as the fan had broken sometime during the night. I mean please don't get me wrong,I love the dawning of each new day..challenges to be met...all those possibilities abound.I am totally into the concept of seizing the morning by it's balls.It's just that on seriously hot days like this my motivation melts along with my make up as I  apply it.I read in a recent article that some folk return home to feverishly stock up on beloved items such as olive oil and mountain boots.I'd give my eye teeth for an effective deodorant-as I sit here ardently digging out the last remnants from the bottom of the men's 'Speed Stick' and rubbing the teaspoon with it's precious cargo across either armpits.My son,who has come to know a little of my personality the last six years,watches on nonchalantly before taking a deep breath and asking."Mummy?Why is there a golden sticker on my apple slice?"With a huge jarring motion,number one brain cog starts it's first 360 degree revolution of the day."Well!You did all your chores very well this morning.It means 'Good job'." I smoothly reply.He looks down,eyebrows creased as he studies."Doesn't 'good' start with a 'g' as in 'girl'?"he chirps back,"This is 'd...e....l' space then a 'm....o....n....t..."I smile my best motherly smile,"Oh,that's 'Good job' in another language.French,I think"and pour another cup of tea for everyone from our newly acquired family teapot."I've got one too!"teases daughter from across the table."The same letters!"

 The pram was loaded up with swimming gear,enough spare changes of clothes for every imaginable scenario known to motherhood,like missiles we were ready to unleash ourselves upon the poor sods who also inhabit this great city when the oh so mummily mundane thing happened..we'd forgotten something.

Or rather someone. Our summer guest.The primary school's crayfish.A rather spooky looking thing thrust upon me without warning and under duress.I like furry things.Little things that squeak and have beady little eyes that look lovingly at you when they want grub. I don't know what alerted me to 'his' plight.The circling buzzards or the cat sat salivating next to the cooker,a pan of oil sizzling,bowl of breadcrumbs,plate of mayo and lettuce nearby.Charlie the Killer Crayfish's cell was most decidedly grubby.Knowing absolutely nothing about how to look after this creature,I am paranoid at the thought of returning home to find it deceased.Up in the great crayfish heaven in the sky.Plus my son,Bat Boy would be devastated......even if he did enjoy Charlie served up later as tempura.By the time we'd 'reformed' Charlie's home much to the chagrin of the feline in the family,time,the morning and the temperature were marching on.

Whizzing down the street,determined to meet up with friends in Kichijoji,I waltz into a convenience store to stock up on water."Bloody boiling today,isn't it?"shouts out the cashier gaily.I do a double take,mouth hanging open in surprise,firstly at the greeting perfect British English and then the lovely young lady's Asian face that smiles at me."You are British,right?"she asks,"I lived in England for ten years.I recognise your accent!"Still in shock,I turn to look at her work colleague who shrugs his shoulders and utters "Eigo wakaranai!"(I don't understand English)"I am sorry,"I stutter,"I was just really surprised to hear you! I haven't heard the words 'Bloody boiling' for such a long time!" She laughs and extends her hand."My name is Kaori.Nice to meet you!"After wiping my sweaty palm surreptitiously down my top,we exchange introductions. "It's really nice to meet someone from England,"Kaori gushes,"All the foreigners seem to be mostly American or Australian." I laugh as the shop doors open and my Japanese friend walks in."Oh Sammysan! I thought it was you!"to my children,"Hello!How are you all today?"I introduce my friend to Kaori and we banter a while."Yuka lived in England for a while too,didn't you Yukasan?.......Her husband is French and they have children.We're going on a play date to Kichijoji today...."To which my son leaps forward and shouts"Del Monte!Del Monte!" at the top of his voice much to every one's surprise."Auntie Yuka?Do you know what 'Del Monte' means in French?"

Making Waves.

At least my my hairy regions have been successfully contained.In complete disparity,I may add to my fleshy areas which seem indomitable in their quest to reach new horizons.A touch of abstinence on the food front would most definitely make hubby's heart fonder whilst it would seem my confidence is on a fast. What smidgen I had,did a Greta Garbo months ago and hasn't been seen since.Flickering lights spotted dancing from under a door in the early hours of the morning,as I toss and turn,are the only signs that Ms Confidence is still with us at all.I thought I'd found salvation in the form of Tesco's 'George' chain of clothing hitting Seiyu Department stores earlier this year.Sizes...real sizes,for people over age sixteen, with boobs and who dare to weigh over fifty kilograms.Dangling that carrot outside Fraulein Confidence's door,I gleefully held up a T-shirt from the ladies section that didn't look as if it should belong two aisles down in the children's area. A beautiful grass green colour with a cute teddy bear,flower design and bold letters "Teddyies,flowers sun play with me,let's do,with together,shall you?".Crikey...I must be sloping down into a pit of destruction and self loathing.I can't even understand a simple English sentence any more.A vision of me sat,eating ten fish sausage sticks at once,crying out to the kitchen sink,"Now look what you made me do!" terrifyingly darted through my head as I heard a door bolt slammed violently into place.

Yep!  Not a hair  out of place or rather in the wrong place for me as I watch two beautiful teenagers glide past on two inch sandals,stringy bikinis hanging tenaciously onto healthy,slim bodies,Jackie Kennedy sunglasses reflecting the splash pool's scenery.There it is......I almost clap my hands in unadulterated glee .......unseen to the untrained eye..a single hair riding her big perfectly varnished toe.I check out my own toes.Nope,nail varnish might be looking a bit worse for wear but absolutely no hair...not even a bit of root snapped off and left.Start with the little things I tell myself again...then we can move onto the food  binging issues.Spurred on by this thought,I continue to paddle through the crowded tide pool over to my daughter,bobbing up and down in the waves. I adore water.This is absolute heaven.Gorgeous weather,all day in a huge splash pool arena with hubby and the kiddies. I heard on the radio that some parts of Tokyo had reached the big 35 by lunchtime. What better way to spend such a sweltering day? "Mummy."Bat Boy suddenly enquires of his Creator...well one of them anyway,"What the hell does your T-shirt say?" 

Rainy Day Fun.

God,this beer tastes sooooo good in this heat.Nectar of the Gods.Looking down.Don't think my tum looks so bad in the new double corseted swimming armour I splashed out on yesterday.Well,I think the term 'splashed out' isn't really apt at all when considering a swimming costume is a necessity in summer.'Splash out on' conjures up images of impulsive purchases,things you bought that seemed a superlative idea in that moment but send you reeling with a 'what planet was I on' six months later,as you yank them out of a cupboard,the dust bringing on a lengthy coughing fit.One such memory floods back with savage intensity as Bat Girl jumps into the pool,her pink ballet tutu complimented delightfully with pink flowers on vomit inducing yellow background pop socks.A fall out after a huge disagreement with hubby a few years back.The things he's made me do.The Booby Slayer follows a second later,again in a ballet outfit with rubber tiara then Bat Boy decked out gloriously in full pirate attire complete with stubble and an eye patch.I watch them all splash around in the water,their cries of delight echoing out into the neighbourhood.

I don't care.We just had to get out of the house.The kids were turning feral.I am going to make moulds out of the claw marks in the walls later.Maybe I can start my own Yeti hoax right here in Tokyo suburbia.There are only so many games of Connect 4 you can play before your own synaptic connectors start snapping.And it's probably not wise to brag that I can name and describe to a tee every character from the Guess Who? game.Don't even go there on Monopoly.....Lordy,do I need another swig of beer.The patio is one long,psychedelic,chalk,mosaic.I giggle to myself as I wonder what Rorschach would make out of all the bum bum,poo poo and monster shapes.Oh...or maybe I shouldn't as I peer a little more closely at the squiggles and dots here and there.I am in awe,transfixed as a dragonfly alights onto my chair's armrest.I marvel at how incredibly breath taking nature's brush is.Maybe she...I sense that she is a she....has been cooped up with three feral dragon babies all day and is having a bit of fresh air.

The patio door sliding open,along with the children's chirpy "Kaeri nasai" greetings,(Daddy.You are home!)heralds hubby's return. I swing my umbrella a little to the right to get a better view of him."Welcome home,my little samurai warrior.How was work today?Dinner's ready!"I coo,remembering to suck in my stomach."Lovey...it's pouring with rain,"laughs hubby."Why are you all outside in the pool?"Standing up,lifting my chair out of the pool and  up onto the balcony with one hand,"It was so hot and the kids and I were just losing it!"Hubby's face creases into a frown."Well,come on in and let's have dinner.It smells delicious.Did you cannibalise the onions in butter for a while,like I showed you?"he asks retreating to the kitchen."Yes,they were machete to death slowly and the ones that didn't die immediately were left to drown in boiling butter,"I replied throwing towels onto wriggling,giggling wee bodies. 

Beasties That Go Bump In The Night.

I swallowed nervously as I looked down the street to the Gomi (rubbish) Gestapo's house.She couldn't possibly be awake at 4.30,could she?I mean she needs to sleep sometime....doesn't she? Even the giant, shiny,very scary looking robot from 'The Day The Earth Stood Still' dimmed it's lights and had a kip every so often.Oh,this is just getting ridiculous,I admonished myself.Here I am,a mature woman,a mother, creeping around at this ungodly hour with a bag of rapidly decaying vegetable peelings and paper.It was only then that I noticed other figures lurking in the shadows."Morning."slurred a face from the neighbourhood as he deftly swung his bag at the collection point and sprinted off with surprising agility.A morning jog I presumed until he suddenly veered,Nike singeing tarmac,into the driveway of his house,his figure swallowed up in the darkness."You are out and about early."she grinned at me.I jumped back startled.Even with a smile on her face,the Gomi Gestapo always reminded me of the witch from Hansel and Gretel,'Just light the oven for me pet,won't you.That's it.Reach in.Right to the back'. I would have returned the grin but she was peering intently at my garbage bag and it's contents.My throat went dry.You can look all you like.My garbage is pristine.No plastics of any kind.Everything is totally flammable.In fact,I doused it with gasoline myself just to make sure.I even sorted the paper out into colours. Leaning on her walking stick,geta (traditional Japanese shoes) adorning her hooves,"Good morning to you too,Mr Watanabe." to which a young man sheepishly stood up from behind a nearby bush,garbage bag in one hand and administered a trembling salutation. Turning back to the task at hand,she turned over a couple of bags with her stick.prodding and poking until one bag emitted a tinkling noise.Grasping it in her bony hand and lifting it with an ease defying her years.....it was said that she had led a successful raid against one of Commander Perry's first emissaries..........her face creased into a frown.The stench of wine mixed with not so fresh other stuff oozed from a hole,a hole now dripping some kind of liquid.Spilling the beans took on a new terrible dimension as together we saw a liquid trail leading all the way to a place across the road."Is today a recycle day,Mr Ito?" she enquired loudly to the sky,as a shutter from across the road was slammed shut suddenly.Turning,bag still clutched in raised hand,she strode now with rigorous purpose.Mr Watanabe raced back off down the road,bag hugged to his chest as the screaming from the house opposite started."As you should know,Mr Ito.We do not mix glass with burnables....."The screaming from inside the house grew even more pitiful with every step the Gomi Gestapo took........

I jolted upright in bed.I could still hear screaming.Not from the house opposite but from Bat Boy's bedroom.Mother mode zooming on,I raced in to see my beloved Bat Boy huddled in a corner.Running to console him,it emerged that 'something big and slimy' had jumped on his face'. Bat Girl was spreadeagled ,comatose on a bed nearby."It jumped somewhere,Mummy! Over there,"he pointed,his little face all squashed up and red like the tissue I use to blot my lipstick every morning.Hubby makes an entrance."Something slimy and big jumped onto darling Bat Boy's face,"I explain....if that actually did explain anything at...hey hey,there's that magic number again....2am ,to which hubby jumped up on Bat Boy's vacant,warm bed."Just in case I tread whatever it is into the carpet,"he replies to my look of astonishment,"You'd better use this to look under the beds,"he kindly advises handing me a baseball bat.   Crouching down,I slowly lift the valence on Bat Boy's bed then viciously swing the baseball bat through space.Nothing.I double check.Nothing there.No onto Sleeping Beauty's bed.Gingerly,I raise her pink valance and just go for it with the bat.Something big leaps out,I feel  warmth.....fur.... scramble over my face followed by an encore of cold,slimy something.It is a frog.A big one now scrambling for it's life into my hair as our resident feline howls with chagrin.Turning to Bat Boy and his Daddy who have finished their own shrieking fit both safely atop son's bed."It was only a frog!Now everyone back to sleep,I'll put him outside in the garden."Our cat most certainly has a thing for raw frog.Third time this year.I turn on the kitchen lights and stepping around the ants,open the patio door to release a very grateful froggie back out into the world.I swear he gives me a little salute before leaping off into the leafy undergrowth.

I  turn and there it is.A black shape highlighted against the white of our kitchen wall.Antenna swirling around,legs fixed.It's there hoping that I don't notice it...big black tank of a beastie...illuminated very nicely against a super white wall...well if you ignore the tomato ketchup hand prints and I don't really want to dwell on what that brown smear might be."Broody 'ell,"huffs hubby behind me,"It's rike

One Down...Fifty Billion More To Go....

"Hey! Hey! Come quick,"hubby shrieked causing us all to literally drop our first morning drinks and run panicked into the kitchen."They're everywhere...everywhere,"he continued to screech. He's working way too much,I think quietly to myself as I surreptitiously scan the walls for pink elephants or hairy spiders wearing tutus."Calm down,lovey"I comfort as to one of my children,"Who exactly is everywhere?" Just as I felt the first tiny itch on my foot...then another....then another.Looking down,at first it appeared as if the lino was swirling."Oh look! Ants,Mummy!"yelled Bat Boy in delight.Ants. What with all the screeching,I thought hubby might have inadvertently picked up the wrong briefcase at work and opened it this morning to find some human body part in it,wrapped in newspaper."Did you know about this?" interrogated hubby."Know?" I question."About the ants?" a smidgen too haughtily said for my liking."Oh yeah...."I sighed,"Two...maybe three days.I've decided to let them stay as I think they go nicely with the furnishings ....and they're great listeners."I swear I hear tiny screams as he brings his foot down savagely and takes out the equivalent of half the populous of Tokyo.Not one to be ignored my sarcasm sought new shores."Please can you sort this out.I hate ants." as He,the only practising Buddhist of the household,stomps his slippered feet down again....oops there goes Nakano.......and saunters out to the genkan,the dead and dying impaled on his heels.

I actually don't really mind ants.I mean,I wouldn't like to be tied down on a bed,smeared head to toe with honey and then have a few thousand of the little black critters set loose on me.And they don't taste too great on cereal either.Bit too crunchy for my liking but...in the grand scheme of things,there are a hell of a lot worse creepy stuff to contend with during the hot and humid summer months.Top of my cringe list are cockroaches.Now we are talking nasty...nasty...nasty.They are built like tanks.Built in sensors that  exceed any man made technology.They fly.They can live for ten years on a grain of sugar or something like that.You whack them with a slipper,spray enough poison on them to take out an elephant,suck them up high powered Dysons and they still live.If a deadly plague ravished the planet,only two things would survive....cockroaches and my MIL.I used to feel really bad about every cockroach I managed to kill.As I stood,watching it trying to scale the toilet bowl in one last futile attempt before I dropped the wad of loo paper and flushed it's body to oblivion,I felt a twinge of compassion for this creature.I mean after all,it was only trying to survive...just like me.Was it a Daddy?Out foraging for food with a Mummy and four little cockyroaches waiting apprehensively at home for his return.Maybe his youngest was the runt of the kids,born with deformed legs and not meant for this life long.Maybe this cockroach now cascading down through a watery tunnel to the seaside with absolutely no sunscreen on,was seeing it's whole life flashing before it.Would it's last flashback be of Tiny Cockroach's face peering through a window,lit up with joy at Daddy's return? Would other cockroaches in the community come running to help the widow and her young kids? What if one of the kids grew up to be a powerful leader in the cockroach world and vowed to bring down the murderer of his late beloved Dad?

" Mummy!"tugged Bat Boy at my arm,mercifully breaking my train of thought."I've got a great idea!Let's make an ant zoo,"he gushes holding up with pride his beetle box now revamped with a tiny pot of strawberry jam upon which a most impressive battle was being waged."I think that's a great idea," I smile,running my hand across his head."Why don't you put it in Daddy's reading room where they'll be safe."

Poetic Justice.

Dusted off the Victoria Secret balconette booby sling,slathered on the men's Speedo stick,donned the compulsory black suit and sunglasses,fumigated myself with a last spray of Chanel and out the door to work it was. Saturday so no rush hour boot camp this morning.Resisted the temptation to burst into a ditty from The Sound of Music while twirling round a full 360 degrees,cringing briefcase following,to share my bliss.I sit down gently,taking into consideration the passengers sat on either side of my new bum bum parking space and gently whisper a 'Summimasen" (Excuse me/Sorry to disturb you) in true Japanese spirit.

As anyone who commutes on  regular basis,I've mastered the art of opening my bag,withdrawing the latest tome I am reading,zipping up bag and opening the book to the correct page,all without moving my elbows from the booby vicinity.Living in a city where it seems like the entire population of China  commute through on the same train every morning,you very quickly learn how to adapt and make it as comfortable as possible.If Darwin were still around,I am sure he would find it very informative studying foreigners' during Tokyo's rush hour.The evolution from the first experience of rush hour here... shock, horror,disbelief,catatonic trance .....to that plateau of acceptance where you find yourself falling asleep, snoring vociferously and dribbling on your neighbour's shoulder with the best of them......can be quite dazzling to behold.A fine modern example of human adaptation.

So there I am,book open,totally absorbed in my quest to find out if the butler did it or not when I suddenly become aware that the passenger to my right is making 'tut tut' noises.Turning to look,it is a woman.Probably in her forties who is brushing something off her arm and giving me the evil eye.I worriedly scan the floor and seating area for cockroaches.Nothing.Subtle sniff.Armpits fine and reporting for duty.I check my right arm.Nothing there.Go back to my reading and ignore her.Again,with much drama she lifts her left arm and starts wiping it,all the while looking at me like I am a regurgitated  rice ball she's been served at a restaurant. "Excuse,"I sweetly coo.Whopping smile across my face even though I feel like injecting wasabi (Japanese spicy horseradish dip.) up either of her nostrils for a few hours."Is there something wrong?" She turns her head to one side and mutters under her breath. "Foreigner" and shudders.Yeah,I think to myself,foreigners.Making a big show of putting her book back into her bag,wiping down her left arm again,she moves across the aisle to a vacant seat.Gives me a couple more looks and closes her eyes,nose occasionally wrinkling up.

With images of Velcro straps and a huge syringe of wasabi in my head,I put my head back down in chapter nine.Shinjuku station arrives.The train rocks as a river of people surge on,vying to the death for any seat.A businessman grabs the one so recently vacated next to me,beaming me a huge smile as he sits down.The obligatory 'Summimasen" slipping from his lips,even though he hasn't bothered me in the slightest.I smile back at him.He asks me where I am from.We chitchat for a minute then I nearly gag as the most foulest odour wafts across the aisle.Looking over,I see the woman again.Next to her is sat an obviously homeless man.Dreadlocks naturally formed due to his unfortunate lifestyle,skin black with grime,a trolley positioned in front of him with his bags on.He flashes her a stumpy grin.I nearly laugh as  I can see the woman is trying desperately not to notice.At one point her hand flutters to her mouth and the little devil inside of me, half hopes she is going to faint.She stands up and tries to escape.The train is moving.There are no free seats.She cannot pass through into the main part of the carriage,as the homeless man's trolley completely blocks the aisle.She is cornered,where carriage connects carriage but no adjoining door is there to save here.

My station arrives.I wave a cheery 'goodbye' to the businessman. and an even cheerier and much appreciated one to the homeless man.The woman tries to scramble to my seat but is beaten by another.As the train zooms off into the tunnel and onto another day,I see her standing in the doorway,trapped by the trolley on one side,the carriage wall on the other,her nose wrinkling in disgust.........Just like the Yamanote,lady....you can be sure,what goes around,comes around........

The P.T.A Meeting.

P.T.A meetings are a bit like joining a drinking party sober,six hours after it originally started.Everyone is talking what sounds like gibberish and laughing at jokes you can't quite get.Somebody please glue the  linguistic goal posts in place.They keep moving.Just when I actually feel like I am getting the lingo down,someone will throw a word in that I can't even pronounce,let alone spell to look up in a dictionary.I've become quite adept at portraying an outward facade of unqualified and exceptional comprehension during school meetings.On the odd occasion when I can read an entire page of kanji,I feel like ripping my knickers off there and then and swinging them around my head singing "We're The Champions"ecstatically.I normally only end up smugly drinking my allocated cup of green tea and senbai.

I've naturally assimilated a lot of the cultural mannerisms by watching the other mums.When someone calls out my name,I am able to put my index finger up on my nose and ask "Watashi" without rolling my eyeballs.I've perfected my 'sucking in of breath' technique (can do it non-stop for nearly a minute these days) and the timing of the  'Muzukashii' deliverance would make any seasoned actor weep.I can give a whole speech these days and keep my eyes glued on the desk in front of me.My foreigner heyday of wildly eye balling everyone and demanding eye contact are behind me. I no longer try to argue the merit of changing certain points or politely disagreeing.I 'Hai,wakarimashita' everything (Yes,I understand) and then merrily toddle off to pursue exactly what I wanted to do anyway.And to hell with the consequences. It took me a long time to learn that it is far easier here to apologise then to ask permission to do something different or new.

I am sat slurping down a beer.I did okay.I laughed,I smiled,I even frowned and shook my head at all the key prompts.I told a funny anecdote about mixing up the words 'unko' (poo poo) and 'anko' (sweet bean paste filling) when asking in a crowded store about various fillings in some dumplings they sold.......my eyes riveted to a lady's legs  in front of me wearing pop socks and sandals in 30 degrees.The room burst into laughter as thirty women in unison held up handkerchiefs to their faces.My neighbour even touched my shoulder...I flinched in true Japanese style. I  survived another P.T.A meeting........