Despite these claims, Ellie went to a doctor today, a doctor who appeared to be completely human and not the least bit elephantine, and found him charming. She was weighed and measured, gently poked and peered at, lightly bonked with a rubber mallet and still had nary a breakdown. She was sweet, full of giggles and smiles and solemn nods and enthusiastic high-fives. Though thrilled, I think I had a giant "WTF?" bubble over my head the entire time.
This doctor was very kind to her (and very kind to her parents, for that matter) and he said things that made me want to inappropriately, impulsively embrace him or smooch him or bake him a pie. The very best part was his official and thoughtful diagnosis, a diagnosis that brought tears to my eyes and put a spring in my step: Just Plain Weird.
I think I can handle weird.