Lucky Boy

This is my favorite picture in the entire world. It was taken three years ago by my father-in-law, while we were visiting the Singapore Zoo.

Just look at Caleb's face. He's hot stuff and he knows it.

And look at the boys in the background. I bet they're thinking one word: Lucky!
(If you say it like Napolean Dynamite it's even funnier).

This picture is indicative of what it was like to walk around Singapore with a blond haired, blue eyed, chubby bodied baby boy. (I dare you to say that ten times fast). I can't even begin to count how many times complete strangers would ask if they could take a picture of themselves holding Caleb. And I, of course, being the responsible parent that I am, would happily hand him over.

I couldn't help myself. I was just as taken by the beautiful people around me, as they were by Caleb. How could I say no to that?

While visiting the Jurong Bird Park one afternoon, an Indian man wearing a turban pushed through a group of 30 or so tourists, and as he ran toward us, flailing his arms as though he was parting the Red Sea, he said, "Oh look at the beautiful boy. I must give him a kiss!" And after kissing Caleb's cheek and playing with his chubby hands, Caleb, who was used to this kind of attention by now, returned the affection by smiling his dimply cheeked smile, as the man stumbled back into the mob of tourists from which he came.

I don't know why, but Caleb has that affect on most people.

Of course not everyone was quite so bold in their attempt to meet Caleb. There was one ridiculously funny moment when Adam and I became aware of a Japanese man cautiously, and rather uncomfortably (if I do say so myself), side-stepping his way over to where Caleb was playing. At first Adam and I were alarmed, but then we realized that standing about 40 feet away was another person holding a camera and motioning for the posing man to scoot closer. But before we could tell him that we didn't mind if he wanted to take a picture with Caleb, he leaned down and smiled, the camera clicked and then he left, just as strangely as he came.

And now I can't help but wonder: What has become of those pictures?