Last night I made the girls an extra bubbly bath, and forced them both to endure the worst possible torture: hair combing. Sophie negotiated some extra TV time, and grabbed a book she insisted I read after the brush was relinquished and her hair braided.

She was obsessed with one book, called “Countdown to the First Day of School”.

“New school, new school!” she told me, offering her own special pronounciation of her new teacher’s name, Ms. X for these purposes. (Actually, I can’t bet on that — the teacher cards are supposed to be in the mail Monday, I hear. Gulp. We could end up with Ms. Y or Ms. Z.)

It IS the countdown to school, but that wasn’t why I was spit shining her. It’s taken most of the summer, but Sophie has her first official, therapy-inspired play date this morning.

After I placed my “ad” on the blog, the friend of a friend emailed to offer her four year old daughter’s services. I’ve admired this woman from afar but never had the chance to really sit down and talk with her (and I’m not just saying that because she’ll likely read this!) and we both decided this would be a nice opportunity.

Plus she admitted that her younger daughter gets short shrift in the play date department. It was an incredibly kind thing to say, even if it’s not true. Actually, other moms who’ve offered up their kids for the Great Sophie Play Date Experiment have said the same thing.

So maybe it’s a second kid thing, not a kid with Down syndrome thing?

Nah, with Sophie it’s the latter. I know it is. And I know that at this late date, I’ve already blown my mandate from Sally-Ann and Dorcas, the taskmaster therapists, to socialize Sophie before kindergarten starts August 4.

Hey, I blew puppy school, too.

But in a little while I’ll get Sophie up and find us both cute outfits and we’ll head to our play date. Wish us luck.