Max was in rare form at her screening for an early childhood preschool program. That was actually a good thing. I wanted the experts to see what we see every day. We filled out our registration, got her name tag, and dove into the process of seeing one expert after another. As she made her way around the tables answering questions and jumping through hoops for various specialists, she became more fidgety and sassy than usual. Hard to believe, I know.
As we worked with the school psychologist, the real Max showed up in full force. She had Max perform various feats of intellect and behavior. (She skipped over the obvious “Can she sit still in a chair” question – um, no.)
Part of the assessment was to determine if Bethany knew her own name. So, the psychologist asks her, “What is your name?”
Max looks up at this woman as if she had just clapped eyes on the official Stupidest Person on the Planet. She points at her chest and answers slowly, so the lady will be sure to understand: “It’s on my tag, so you can see it.”
Needless to say, the poor psychologist lost it in a fit of laughter to find herself outwitted by a three year old.