The World of Japan According to Maggie

Japan was, without a doubt, the most intense and rewarding and fun and emotionally exhausting trip of my entire life.  It was the experience of a lifetime for us.  But before I begin posting about our twelve days on the road, I would like to bring you a smaller person’s take on Japan.  Without further ado, Japan According To Maggie:

“I like crackers. I only get them as a special treat at home but Mommy says that all of vacation is special and also that they keep me from screaming on trains when I am in the carrier and that’s why she found room for a dozen packages of crackers in her backpack instead of more underwear.  I don’t like the carrier OR the stroller because then I can’t run around and jump in the road and the gutters and I like the road and gutters.  Daddy says because I like the gutters I’m going to be a civil engineer and Mommy says it’s just my Irish coming out and then he calls her a Crom-weeelian tart and I don’t know what that means but I like gutters.  I like pigeons too and there are LOTS of pigeons in Japan and I get to chase all of them through the shee-rines.  Everyone at the shee-rines likes me but they think my name is “Kawaii” and then when they say “Kawaii” Mommy and Daddy ask me to say “arrigato” instead of telling them I am a MAGGIE and then they want to take my picture and touch me and I would rather chase my pigeons and make noise.  I like noise.  I especially like noise at night when Mommy and Daddy say it’s goodnight time. That’s when I get to say “Goodnight! Goodnight! Kisses!” and give Mommy and Daddy lots of kisses and fall over on their heads until they say “Lie down and go to bed, Margaret” and I don’t know who Margaret is but they really want her to go to sleep.  My favorite place to sleep is on the fooo-ton next to Daddy but Mommy wants to sleep next to him too so I have to kick her away to her side. Then she says “I guess that’s one way to make sure you don’t get any siblings” but I don’t know what a sibling is.  Do they eat crackers?  I have lots of questions like that, especially about the guy that they keep calling “Buddha” but I keep calling him “Daddy” and I want to know why Mommy thinks that’s so funny and calls me her hilwarious angel.  I guess it’s okay as long as I can keep drinking juice and making noises on the train and getting to read Hop on Pop again and again and again.