Maybe you knew in your gut where you were going and what you wanted, because somehow the minute we got on the plane for Hawaii, you were one mellow fellow. Especially your gut. Total switch from the baby who wailed the minute he wasn't sucking. No binky, so I nursed you round the clock. Still, I was surprised when we were cruising on a boat offshore Maui and people asked if you were 5 or 6 months. "Six weeks," my reply. "Gasp," came the retort, "what are you feeding him, buttermilk?" You doubled your weight in 6 weeks! And you've been on a "let's get buff" kick ever since. Give me credit for starting you out right.
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| CHUBBY SNAIL VS. CHUBBY BABY FOOT |
You loved Hawaii like nothing else. Maybe the humidity, so unlike Denver's, was your lullaby. Maybe the tropical breezes rocked you. You slept effortlessly. You never squirmed or cried once. So at home in Paradise. Time for a trip back?
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| BABY ORCHID BLIZZARD |
Next time you may not get rained on in such an exotic way. Here, a helicopter buzzed back and forth above our heads, dropping a load of baby orchids with each pass over. By the time it was over, the ground was green no more, but lilac and purple. Pretty jaw dropping. Even if you don't get such a flamboyant welcome next time around, I still suggest you get yourself back to Paradise soon, even if you have to swim. You seemed to be made for Maui. Maybe it was those hula babes.
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