Several rights I've discovered about being a visitor at someone's house:
1. Guilt for invading someone else's space: Jesse and Bekah are gracious hosts and they don't complain about this, but I've displaced their kids for sleeping, been present in the living room during a friendly spousal spat, and been in the bathroom when Miriam needed to use the toilet. Auwe.
2. Cheer about doing housework (the little I've done): Doing dishes when you're a visitor is extra. It's nice to feel like the work you do is extra rather than a daily chore. I say things like, "This vacuum is awesome!" and "These stainless steel counter tops are so easy to clean!" And I mean it. I can also blog while Bekah is scrubbing the floor.
3. Embarrassment over my own parenting: Amaya has thrown some major tantrums here, and my normal reaction is annoyance, but under scrutiny its "What the heck have I created?"
4. Un-organization: this may be a right I have at home, but it's even worse when I'm looking at a suitcase that is holding my current life, and I can't find anything. I lost my brush three days ago and have been borrowing Bekah's ever since.
5. General non-chalance about schedule: In my home life I wouldn't dream of staying up until midnight every night talking with friends, especially when I have a baby who wakes up at 6:30, but putting her to bed at 9, eating all day long, staying up late, finally getting out the door by noon-- these are all things that are expected about the visitor.
6. Spending: The visitor can buy more things than normal under the assumption that one cannot buy these things wherever they are from. I have so far bought a Taiyaki pan, bento items, and some stuff from Ikea, along with some other items that I will not mention here because Jake is probably reading this. I like to chalk it up to "Japan is expensive."