Hawaii: Breakfast, Beach, & Sparklers

Monday was our grand finale. Mamo took Ever shopping in Kona that morning, making all of Ever's dreams come true. Pod went to work. Jim, Wren, and I walked with Coco and Dun Dun to Hawaiian Style Cafe for breakfast. Coco and I shared french toast (and hash browns, which are not pictured):

Dustin ordered the "Big Moke Loco Moco." He accidentally pronounced "moke" like "mock" and was sore ashamed. He acknowledged his mistake to the waitress later in an honorable attempt to alleviate any embarrassment caused to his "local" wife.

After breakfast we detoured to Longs Drugs before heading home. As I was checking out, the girl bagging my stuff asked, "Whitney Hastings?" I looked at her name tag, which said "Becky," and realized she had been at Waimea School with me. She said I looked just the same (yeah, right!), and she still sees my mom around town. When she saw Courtney, she asked if she (Courtney) was the baby. At first I was confused and wondered if she thought Courtney were my baby, which would offend me. Then it became clear that she remembered Courtney from when Courtney was a baby. Mamo must have brought wee Courtney to school or school activities or something? Anyway, it was amazing that Becky not only recognized me but remembers my full name and our family. I never would have been able to tell you her name, and I probably wouldn't even have recognized that I knew her from somewhere. This is not good news about my memory. Early-onset, here I come.

Bags took this shot on the walk back home. Our beloved street:

We headed down to Mauna Lani for one more beach trip. Shortly after we left the house, we noticed a stench in the car. I thought maybe it was coming from something rotting in the back. Bags seemed to think it was coming from Dustin, who was in the front next to her. Dustin smelled himself all over and then repeatedly proclaimed that it was not he. Bags still looked skeptical, but she tried to be nice. There was much discussion about how awful it was and what the source could be. When we piled out of the car at the beach, it was quickly ascertained that Dustin's shorts were, indeed, the culprit. He'd been rinsing them out after our adventures, but they had not been washed. The stench was truly awesome, and Dustin was mortified. He jumped in the ocean as soon as he could, and that was an excellent temporary remedy. After his dip, he could relax and enjoy:

Mamo and Ever joined us shortly after we arrived. Missy found a rock she liked:

Coco held a brief photo shoot with Wrenzy:

The boys snorkeled, and Coco and I swam out to the point with Ever on the boogie board. The point looks so close when you're on the beach, but when you're out there, it feels as if you're far out.

Miss Leigh borrowed my glasses on the way home. She looks a lot more glam in them than I do:

Poor Wrenzo was so tired by the time I got her to bed. Coco tried to document her ugly cry face:

Miss Leigh showed off her goodies from the shopping spree with Tutu. She was so excited about her Elsa dress-up clothes, including long sought-after "tall shoes":

After Wren went to bed, it was dinnertime for the bigger people. Pod and Jem ignored our calls to come for dinner and proceeded to discuss the shortfalls of their weather apps while the rest of us waited patiently (or not) at the dinner table:

Since it was our last night, we (mainly Ever) did a bunch of sparklers in honor of the New Year's Eve that was to come.

Ever loved them and was not at all afraid:

Pod tried to backward-write Ever:

He has perfected his own name:

Ever danced:

The next morning we said our goodbyes and headed back to CA. It was such a wonderful trip. We did lots of things, but we didn't pack in too much. We Kringels are slow at everything because of the chilluns, but everyone was patient with us. Flying with a Wrenzo is less than ideal, but it was totally worth it.  

Speaking of flying, a note about the return trip:  

In his old age, Pod has developed a weird problem - he can't drive all the way to Hilo without a pit stop. He said it doesn't happen on the way to Kona, and it doesn't happen on the way back from Hilo; he just always has to hit a lua on the way to Hilo. 

Packing was hard, and we left the house a little later than we should have. Despite the lateness, we stopped at a Pizza Hut so Pod could go to the bathroom. (Once we stopped, Ever decided she also had to go.) 

Then the lady at the airport who checked us in was not friendly, and she gave us a hard time about not having Wren's birth certificate with us. (The point of the birth certificate is to make sure the baby is under two. Obviously Wrenzo is not yet two years old.) Then the lady, who initially seemed so anti us, started telling stories about her progeny, car seats, and I don't remember what else. She was not in any rush to check us in. I wasn't watching the time and had no idea how late it was. As we were getting through security (which is amazingly line-less in Hilo), Jim said that the flight was supposed to take off in about five minutes. Some woman came rushing down from the gate looking for us, and just as we started following her, her colleague upstairs began paging us over the loudspeaker. We rushed onto the plane, and it began taxiing before we were even all the way in our seats. Never has there been a closer call.

The flight from Honolulu to San Diego was probably Jim's least-favorite travel experience of all time. Right as we were getting ready to take off, I realized Wren had a pooper. Jim got up with her to change her but stopped to ask a flight attendant for permission. The flight attendant said he had to wait until the seat belt signs were off; we were beginning to taxi, and it's too dangerous to be up when the plane is moving. Jim sat back down. Then he discovered he had poop on his shirt - both on the body of his shirt and a little on his sleeve. He had to sit there with blowout Wrenzo and poop on his shirt for about a half an hour, until we did all the taxiing, took off, and got all the way up in the air. He was furious with the flight attendant and kept talking about how ridiculous it was that he hadn't been able to change her; he could have changed her ten times before we even took off. I was uncomfortable because the flight attendant was seated right behind us and was certainly hearing everything. When the long wait was over and Jim could finally get up, he took Wren to the bathroom while I got his backpack out of the overhead bin to find him clean clothes. (Thank goodness he took his clothes in his carry-on.) It was a rough time. Things got better once everyone was cleaned up, although 10 months is just a hard age on a plane. Our elder daughter provided a moment of levity, spawned by her desire to watch Frozen again on that flight. I said, "You've seen Frozen so many times. When are you going to get sick of it?" Ever said, "My response is: Never."