I have suspected for a while now that I am stuck in a perpetual loop at daycare. It will miraculously return to its initial state every morning no matter what happens – spilled milk, crumb trails, lost toys, etc.
Today, I can finally prove my theory.
It is morning, and mommy just dropped me off. The neatly stacked bins packed the bookcases with various toys – puzzles here, farm animals there. The dollhouse is now fully stocked with plastic furniture and barbies staring blankly back at me. I was pretty sure I took them all out yesterday. The pots and pans are back in the kitchenette cupboards. Running towards them for a closer look, I can hear mommy talking to the caretaker. “Oh, she really likes the kitchenette, doesn’t she.” Mommy is clueless about the true powers of this daycare. Wait… is that… no, it can’t be! I purposely hid the pink teacup in one of the toy cars yesterday, but now it is sitting on the shelf, waiting to be filled again.
Over the past few weeks, I ran multiple experiments, but it was always unsuccessful.
The first time, I purposely covered a barbie with my crumbs and saliva to mark my territory.
Still, she reappeared spotless the next day; I presumed she might have a twin. So then, I hid the smallest dinosaur I could find under a pile of toys, like a dumpster at a construction zone. Not only did it escaped unscathed, but it was also chilling with friends the next day in the dinosaur bin. After unsuccessfully misplacing multiple objects, this teacup had been my 5th (or 10th? I’m not sure, don’t know how to count yet) and final experiment. The conclusion?
Daycare is a magical place, where the future is the present, and the present is a repeat of the past.
No matter how much I try to change the daycare for the better (or worse), the daycare will always return to its initial state after I wake up.
THIS. IS. AWESOME. My first thought is – how much mess can I make today? One kid is putting all the toy trains in a straight line, the other has blocks stacked above his head, and the last is drumming away like there’s no tomorrow. As an 8-month-old highly experienced in crawling, I have more mobility now than ever before. Putting on my imaginary “Taz” hat, I zigzagged across to the other side of the room with as much speed as I could muster. At the end of my journey, I turned around admiring my creation. Success! The trains are in a crooked formation with some wheels facing upward, the blocks are loosely scattered across the playmat as it should be and in my left hand is one of the drumsticks. Ba dum tss. A big grin formed on my face as the kids looked at me, still in shock. The caretaker walked towards me and asked gently, “did a tornado come through?”.
The other kids slowly surrounded me chanting, “Izzy Tornado, Izzy Tornado.”
I graciously accepted my new title; I have earned it since I helped them out.
The next day, my eyes glittered with excitement as we approached the daycare. The front doors flew open, and one of the girls ran up singing “Morning Izzy Tornado.” I look around – sure enough, the daycare is back to normal again. I need to learn this spell so I can use it at home.