The other day, I wrote about an event (the light parade down Mill Avenue) that exceeded expectations.

So it’s only fair to share the dark side of the weekend. Well, not so dark. But definitely on the darker side of pink.

It seemed like a great idea to take Annabelle, Sophie and their 5 year old cousin Kate to LIbby Lu. If you’ve never heard of Libby Lu (I’ve written about it before — note to self, learn that damn link thing on wordpress) it can best be described as Sparkle Heaven. Or Hell, depending on your perspective.

It’s a hair salon without the cut and wash, a place with a lot of bath products you’d never let your daughter’s you-know-what near. Harmless, I suppose, as long as you stick to the pink glittered high tops and avoid the sluttier options available for your toddler.

It’s one of those places I always swore I’d never take my kids. But after my first foray — on a quiet summer Saturday afternoon with Annabelle and a fellow second grader — I felt confident all the girls could handle it.

Poor Sophie. Poor Amy. From the moment we walked in, Sophie wanted to be in charge — and she couldn’t be. You just can’t let a kid wield the sparkle container, for obvious reasons. From the fight in the changing room to the fight over the wig (don’t ask) to the fight to pick out pink and purple plastic crap that comes along with the package I’d bought each kid, Sophie was loaded for bear. (Is that actually a usable phrase? I’ll have to ask Sarah Palin.) I’m shocked I got a smiling picture.

In the end, only Kate got her nails painted and no one got an updo. They all left in wigs (well, Sophie ditched hers long before we actually walked out, it looked great after being shoved in my purse) and the worst part was when Sophie absolutely refused to remove the tee shirt they gave her to wear for the visit.

I wanted to blame Sophie for her bad behavior, but I had to blame myself. I do think that generally speaking, the best policy is to treat her like any other kid, but watching her at Libby Lu on the day after Thanksgiving, I had to admit that some things are just not Sophie-appropriate. I think even she’d admit it. I hate to use the trendy vernacular, but this was sensory overload, sparkle style.

I’ve given it such a ringing endorsement you’re probably rushing out the door to the mall (really, I do sort of love it — the girls who work there are super nice to the little ones, and really, all that pink is a victimless fashion crime) but if you want to bring your kid to Libby Lu, you better do it soon. Big signs pronounced the entire national chain is going under, closing shop(s) in January.

Big sales on all that pink crap right now, though. And kiddie wigs, complete with hair nets.

It fell out today.

And not a moment too soon, since it’s been hanging by a thread for days. It finally came out at school with some advice from a friend (“Pull it!”) and two complete twists. When I heard that, I swooned — and not in a good way.

I advised Annabelle to ask Tabitha Fairchild just one question tonight. “Save the rest for the next tooth!” I said, warning she was going to run out of things to ask her tooth fairy. But every time she’d finished, Annabelle came up with another question; she wound up with six:

Are you married? (No, but I have a boyfriend)

Do you brush your teeth? (Of course!)

Will I ever see you? (Crap, forgot to answer that one)

Do you have a tooth fairy? (Yes, she brings me hair accessories)

Do you have parents? (Yes, I’m very lucky, they’re very nice!)

Now for the glitter and the silver dollars and the note and the barrettes I snuck to Walgreens for and the nervous breakdown inducing tooth removal. Wish me luck.