Like Magic

Chloe had her endocrinology appointment the other day. That’s the one where we talk about her thyroid – it’s really no big deal. Upon arrival in the quiet waiting room, it was clear Chloe was going to leave her mark. Waving, smiling and saying “hi”, the waiters casually raised their heads to catch a glimpse of the little noise maker. After checking in, we settled in for a long wait, me in a chair and her in the stroller. She was restless and wasn’t thrilled with having to wait, so I pulled out the ONLY toy I had with me, a dive fish for the pool (what can I say, you’d think with 3 kids I’d be a little more prepared). I proceeded to kiss her with the fish and she took it swimming it near me and making adorable cute sounds (okay, I’m a little biased). She soon became bored with this game and chucked the fish onto the floor. A sweet 14-year-old boy then retrieved the fish, much to her delight, and returned it to her. Ah ha! A new game. For probably 15 minutes she threw the fish on the floor and this amazing boy fetched it for her. Before I knew it the whole room, young and old with heads buried in magazines or phones, or their own conversations, was engaged not only with her, but with each other. Smiling, laughing, participating in the game. It was like magic. A magic I know other parents of kids with Down syndrome know all too well. Not to say all babies and toddlers aren’t cute, but there is SOMETHING about kids with Down syndrome that just tends to pull them in. . . like magic.