"I've been meaning to ask you about JET," I told her, trying to get out of her some kind of information. About life as an English teacher in Japan. About how to get into the program. About her life before she came to the US. Anything. With a smile as adorable as this woman's, I'd listen to her talk about damn near anything. Especially with that engagement ring of hers conspicuously missing."Sure." She giggles like she always does when someone expresses interest in what she has to say. "What do you want to know?" she asks, eager to help. And at that moment, there's a tugging on the jacket wrapped around her waist. It's a happy, adventurous little half-Asian girl, probably about two years old. Suddenly, a lot of things start to have new explanations. Maybe this child's hers. Maybe she's ashamed about her figure since the baby, hence the jacket. Maybe this little child looks so happy despite the absense of a father, or God forbid, that daddy just went away forever.But before I start thinking about that whole mess of possibilities, there's a more pressing, more captivating matter: an adorable two-year-old half-Asian girl looking up at me with curiosity written all over her face. "Konnichiwa!" I say in my talk-to-little-children voice, my face lighting up with a reciprocal curiosity about this new person I've never seen before. As lady-like as a two-year-old can be, she answers:"Konnichiwa. O-namae wa?" What's your name? So she's half-Japanese. This is her child. Bless her heart, she's just a young Japanese teacher. Just a few weeks ago, she had the appearance of a girl who had come to live some kind of hybrid Japanese/American dream. She looked independent yet impressionable, and gods willing, she'd be married by 25 to a supportive man who she could spend her life doting on. Now I see her in this context, and she's an abandoned woman with a child to care for and a Texas teacher's salary. She's still beautiful, but to the countless eligible bachelors in this city, she's damaged goods. Dangerously close to 30 and already with someone other scumbag's child. This unsuspecting, beautiful young woman with only the best of intentions has found herself in the midst of the American nightmare. Amazingly, this adorable, outgoing child had no concept of any of this, or so it seemed. Don't take my word for it; I've already been wrong once about appearances. I lay down on the ground, so as to be at eye level. I roll over on my back, looking at her upside-down to try to get a laugh out of her. It works."Bu-rei-ku desu. Anata wa?" What about you?"Mai." Again in her lady-like manner, she says, "Yoroshiku onegaishimasu." Nice to meet you. While I stand back up, she looks up at her mom. "Chichi?" she asks. Daddy?The woman and I look at each other in amazement. We've both clearly drawn a blank as to what to tell this child and not ruin her day. Out of honesty, I want to lean back down and say 'no,' but to be perfectly honest, I'd much rather be able to be back on the ground, turn back upside-down, and say, "Tabun." Maybe.