Our day off

Last Monday Cian stumbled out of bed at the usual time of 6:15 and wandered into the kitchen to find it empty.
On a Monday morning.
So downstairs he went to Mammy and Daddy's bedroom to find out just what the good feck was going on. We, hoping for a lie in to some utterly mad time like seven o'clock, blearily told him today was a public holiday and he didn't have to go to school this morning. Or get up early for that matter.
Later on at breakfast time Cian wanted to know why today, Monday, was a holiday. Sanae whispered an explanation to him in Japanese. It was a bit strange. There were nods in my direction and the word 'Daddy' was repeated a couple of times, but I didn't pay too much attention as I was washing the dishes and trying to catch the pre-eleven o'clock sports news on RTE Radio 1.
After breakfast it got even stranger. Cian brought his cup and plates over to be washed and said "Thank you Daddy for making my breakfast", something he never, ever does. Similarly Sanae was quite deferential to me, politely agreeing to my suggestions on how to spend the day off. And this is something she never, ever does either.
It wasn't until I noticed what the public holiday was for that I realized what was actually going on.
It was "Respect for the Aged Day".
I spend the rest of the day kicking their cheeky fecking arses.

We're back!

What stimulated me into finally breaking my silence wasn't the guilt I felt about failing to reflect on our trip home this summer, or last week's surprisingly enjoyable visit to the Pacific Northwest, but rather the lead story on last night's NHK news.
It was about old people. Really old people. Specifically those over a 100. Do you know how many there are in Japan?
A hundred?
A thousand?
Ten thousand?
Try 58,820.
Yep, there are more centenarians alive here than the entire population of Waterford city (and yes, at times, you would be hard pressed to tell then apart). Females account for 87% of the total which means Sanae is probably going to remarry after I shuffle off this mortal coil at 78 (the average life expectancy for an Irish male, though you could knock off a couple years for the induced stress from having to participate in Cian's school's PTA - the subject of another day's post).
Apparently this total is increasing by three to four thousand people a year which very much makes Japan a country for old men and women. Put it this way its probably the only country in the world where my father could come and visit and be referred to as a 'young fella'.
Back in August I volunteered at the Iron Man Triathalon held around Lake Toya. I was at the finish line translating for the foreign competitors ("Arrrrggghh, can't...move...too...much...pain....aarrrggg"). The third last competitor over the finishing line, after competing a 3.8km swim, 180km bike ride, and a 42.km marathon in 16 hours 52 minutes (just three minutes inside the cut-off time) was Toshio Shiomoto from Miyage. He's 73 years old.
No excuses folks.