When I dropped Addy off at preschool on Wednesday (the first day after her surgery), I lingered out of curiosity, vaguely chatting with other the other moms and the teacher while watching Addy out of the corner of my eye.  Addy was happily getting settled, greeting the teacher and the other kids, getting into the playtime rhythm.  I noticed that the little kids by us were watching her closely.  A couple even started to follow her, to get a better look at her face while she was walking around.  (Either she was oblivious, or she doesn’t mind an entourage.)  One little boy finally stood right in front of her, stopping her, and stared hard for a minute – then he raised his hand, pointed to her face and asked “What’s that?”

Instinctively, her hand flew up… to the pink barrette in her hair, and she enthusiastically responded with “Oh, that to keep my hair out of the goop.”  [Goop = post-laser ointment applied to cheek]

The boy just stared blankly.  Addy tried again: “GOOP” – saying it clearly, as if the poor kid didn’t hear the first time).  Another blank stare.  “GOO-OOP!”  Nothing.  “GOO-OO-PUH!”

She finally gave up; clearly, he just wasn’t getting it, so she went off to play.