He will be a week old tomorrow, and I'm just now announcing the birth. (Life is sometimes busy like that.) This was one of the first pictures, when he was just a few minutes old and trying to figure out what kind of world he had landed in.
Life was cold; blankets were wrinkly, noises were all loud and annoying, and the lights were blazing into his eyes. In fact, every time he opened them it brought about bright flashes and the sound of gooey voices going ahhhh. Speaking of voices, what was that wailing sound that kept filling the air every time he tried to express his displeasure with the whole situation?
Couldn't all these people just fade away. That guy, over there-- the one with footprints all over his arm and the stunned look on his face. His voice sounded familiar, but Blaze had never seen him before. He felt sure he would have remembered that thick, black beard.
Ah well, he didn't have to figure it out before a nap. It was warmer now. Maybe they would get rid of those lights. Wrong again. Another big bunch of noise.
So why did everybody keep looking at him, passing him around like a golden baton?
If he closed his eyes, he could imagine himself far away...in a dark, warm room with quiet music playing in the distance. He could almost go back to sleep.
They could all just go back to the lobby where they had been living for the last few hours. He was ready for some peace and quiet. But he had one final observation to make:
"After I catch a few snoozes, I'll show them what it feels like to be awakened every few minutes"