Papa H was a troublemaker in his youth. Uta and I both love to hear stories of his bad doings, particularly because they are just so Japanese. Since we arrived in Japan Uta has been asking to hear again and again how Pop used to poke a wet finger through the shoji screens in his home. Why, Uta wants to know, with his own mischievous sparkle glinting in his eyes, would Pop do such a thing?
Today Uta got to experience for himself a taste of being bad, Papa style. Baba and Jiji will soon change the papers of the shoji screens, so Uta was allowed to poke to his heart's content.
Like being the first to track footprints after a snowfall, there is great satisfaction in destroying a pristine surface. I don't have such tales from my own childhood; no doubt I was too shy to purposefully attract that kind of attention. But Grandma S wasn't too shy. Uta cherishes the story she tells of punching her fist deep into her brother's birthday cake. Maybe that reenactment is next.
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