Henry is a boy, through and through. Without any prodding he's become infatuated with planes, trucks, blocks, throwing things, and swinging things. He's a full blooded little guy.

At the hotel in Maui children were invited to feed the fish at 4 pm each afternoon. We penciled this into our dinner plans -- let Henry feed the fish, after which we would head to the restaurant. We anticipated that the fish feeding would be very fast because little boys fling things by the handful without grace or poise.

I obtained a handful of about 100 fish pellets and squatted behind Henry to prevent him from going straight into the pond. I slowly showed him how to fling a pellet into the water and then placed a single pellet into his hand, after which he threw it properly into the pond. He giggled knowingly at finding the rhythm, then he went to work.

You might expect that the handful of 100 pellets would get attacked by Henry's paw in the same way he claws for cheerios and goldfish crackers. You would be wrong. With surgical precision he would select a single pellet and throw it towards the swirling fish. He'd pause, enjoy what he'd done, and then start for another single pellet. He loved it but our dinner plans started drifting towards midnight dinner plans. Thankfully Daddy started throwing a few extra pellets here and there and several minutes later the 100 were gone. Henry was a smiling little boy and the fish had very full bellies. Our rambunctious little boy returned after his short, delicate sojourn to fish feeding for surgeons.