The first indication that we had entered the twilight zone was when LP pointed out to the Hoos that a man in a squirrel costume was out and about, "Daddy! Look! A squirrel! I want to give him a high five!" SAY WHAT?!
She then ran through the Center seeking out other folks in costumes. The Bobcat, Beaver (who was actually kind of creepy looking) and Dog all received similar treatment. For the record, AK kept saying that she wanted to high-five the creatures, but would balk when we got near.
We met up with a friend a few minutes later who warned us that the goats were out of their enclosures. She knows LP's track record, having taken this photo of LP from her class trip to a local farm. Imagine our surprise when LP ran to greet Scuzz and patted his woolly coat gently.
Yesterday was the icing on the cake - LP's first dentist appointment. She was very excited about it, and the Hoos has been preparing her for months, but I have heard horror stories about how kids actually react when the dental tools come out, so I was only cautiously optimistic. Instead, I almost cried I was so proud.
When we entered the room for her cleaning, the hygienist stepped out quickly to get me a chair; while she was gone, LP hopped into the dental chair, put her head back and opened her mouth widely, waiting. She proceeded to follow instructions fantastically, saying "Yum!" after the hygienist used the specially selected strawberry toothpaste. I got a bit nervous when the hygienist pulled out the trays for the fluoride treatment, but LP was more focused on the bubble gum flavored "tooth medicine" than anything else. She sat with the trays in for the requisite minute, being careful not to swallow and breathing nicely through her nose (I recall the trays triggering my gag reflex and loathing dentist appointments as a result).
LP left the office with a huge smile, a Sponge Bob toothbrush, some dental floss, a few stickers, and a temporary tattoo. I left with a feeling that no matter how fast the last four years went, the next four are going to be gone before I have a chance to blink.