A Whole New World

My youngest daughter was born in Costa Rica. Aside from a baker's dozen worth of excursions to San Jose and two trips to Colorado, the entirety of her whopping five years has been spent in either mountainous or coastal, rural bliss. That is, until our recent move to Arizona. Let me tell you, the SIMPLEST details are a thrill for this kid. It is a lot of fun to go places with her, especially given her trusty tendency to express everything she feels.

When I say simple thrills, I am talking about door bells, side walks, vending machines, automatic doors at grocery stores, safe playgrounds with big slides and believe it or not, the trash truck that faithfully passes through our neighborhood twice a week. It uses a claw to pick up our big plastic can and dump the garbage inside. A one man operation. This is all very impressive stuff. Her transition has been a mild version of plucking someone out of their jungle tribe and plopping them into the city.

I love to see her reaction to everything. When we got a soda out of a machine, she said, "Wow, it just pooped it out." The huge overpasses on the highway are, to her, roller coasters for our car. While at first she felt a little betrayed by the slide when she felt the shock of static electricity, it has become just one more marvel from life in a new world. Nothing has ever given her hair so much lift before.