Japanese women appear to have a hormone that is activated immediately after their first child. All interest and affection that had been previously focused on the husband is suddenly shifted towards the infant. The marriage bed is transformed into a nursery, and the husband must sneak quietly into his own home to sleep on the couch after a 14-hour day at the office. This continues until the day the child moves out of the house at age 45, one day before the wife leaves for her European vacation and husband returns home to find an empty house and a petition for divorce on the kitchen table.
But if children become husbands, what then becomes children?
For anyone who has not been to Tokyo, this my seems like hyperbole. But consider the evidence. There are stores here that sell nothing but pet clothing and costumes. A favorite activity is to dress your pet up as Mickey Mouse, Santa Clause, or Darth Vader, then push your costumed pets around in a baby carriage for public amusement, and grin proudly as passers-by fawn over your “baby”. I kid you not.
I’ve seen dachshund quadruplets all wearing sunglasses.See the Video I’ve seen a fluffy white cat in a skirt and sun bonnet sitting on a tricycle and meowing its annoyance as its “mama” pulled it down a public sidewalk in broad daylight.See the Video And this is all done without much indication of real mental instability on the part “Mama” or “Mama’s little Baby”, though I did once see a despondent costumed cat commit suicide by desperately running into traffic.
But if pets become children, what then becomes pets?
Though a pet in Tokyo can set you back more than $3,000, a respectable handbag will cost you around $10,000. Three days after purchase it is customary to give your bag a introduction party at an elite coffee shop so all your friends can pet, pinch and tickle it until you’ve decided it’s had enough excitement and hurry home to proudly return it to its cardboard sanctuary, the original box in which it will retire nightly for 30 years.
As these “pets” are fabricated from the finest skins of real animals, and are therefore far too dignified for the floor or shelf, any crowded Tokyo restaurant will annoyingly have 50% of its seats occupied by disinterested bags that seldom order even a single menu item. When asked to move the bag to make more room, women will normally scowl at the offending staff, then take and cradle the bag in their arms while cooing reassuringly.
But if handbags become pets, what do Japanese women drag around whenever they need to fund some serious shopping?
Their husbands, of course.
This is, as of yet, just a hypothesis. However, it is the only coherent hypothesis with the ability to explain all the handbags on chairs as I waited for a seat in a crowded Tokyo restaurant today.