“Look! Look, Mommy!” your daughter screeched at you. You had been taken hostage in the middle of doing laundry about two minutes ago, your hand gripped in your three-year-old’s firmly as she dragged you into her room. She claimed she had something to show you, which you speculated had something to do with the disappearance of your husband.

Pushing the door open with her tiny foot, she beamed proudly at her “creation.” You were right — there was Higuruma, a lopsided plastic crown on his head and bows all over his clothing, stickers littering his large nose as he sat at a table much too small for him, his long legs tucked under it. Surrounding him were his daughter’s stuffed animals, and plastic cups and food. He looked tired, but amused, as you walked in.

“There you are,” he said tiredly. His face spelled ‘please get me out of here’ as he looked at you.