It's 2am and you are on an exotic mood lit path on the grounds of a brand new luxury hotel on Maui. You can hear the ocean waves crashing onto the shoreline and there is of course, the most intoxicating sea breeze. Everything green is swaying and you speak in hushed voices with your companions. Hushed because it's pure tropical magic. Hushed because you want to hear all the noises of the dark. Hushed because you do not want to be discovered by the powers that be or the lionsandtigersandbears. You round a clump of tallest palms ever with tiny lights shooting up into them, magic lights. Walking with your eyes to the sky as the light dances all through the billowing palm fronds. We know we are off the path and in the grass because we are barefoot. Giggles, squeals and long-jumped back onto our safe concrete road to adventure we notice a vast rolling landscape. Clear for miles but for the crop of cotton candy. What is that Mommy? That's how cotton candy grows. Pineapple, sugarcane and cotton candy, all in the Hawaiian Islands, of course. Magic. Cotton Candy stalks are 13 feet tall with a 2ft by 5ft sphere atop. The oldest asks to touch it. I grant my permission. I cannot leave the baby on the path alone but all knowing all powerful Mom Force can supervise the journey of the older child. She approaches very quietly as I have instructed (2nd mistake). Within only 2 more very tiny cautious steps of a 9 year old, the cotton candy lifts a 7 ft long rope like plume off it's top. .
Then a 12x4 ft feathery appendage fans out...HUGE... and then another stick shoots to the ground...and then the last 12x4 ft feathery appendage spreads out. The child did not utter a sound. I wish with all my heart I could have seen her face and read the Flamingos thoughts. They were both so amazing. The bird tucked its wings down and turned around and walked away. The child turned around and STOMPED all the way back to the path (conversation details another day). 10 minutes later back on the path all safe and sound returning to civilization, a pretty sweet tiny tree frog hops onto our path right there in front of us stopping us dead in our tracks. Tiny-Cute-Frog. My daughter lost it. IT WAS THE CAP! She stood there statued to the cement screaming at the top of her lungs.