Adventures in Autistic Parenthood

Monday, January 11, 2010

Yule Tried:

Christmas has come and gone. The wrappings are all well buried in the landfill (or the recycle center has done whatever voodoo they do), the decorations are all back in their containers and down in the basement. And the leftovers have been consumed or hidden in the freezer to surprise us in June. (What the hell is this? And when did we cook it?) Christmas is the traditional time for family and children trying to get a years worth of good behavior into the space between Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve. David, on the other hand, just has to expand his usual Thursday and Friday tricks to cover last the last two weeks of the season. As usual his soft-hearted (and headed) father fell for his tricks and he spent Christmas morning tearing the paper off of nearly a truckload of games. (clothes, socks, and anything else are quickly shuffled off to the side with an 'eh') Now Dave gets an entire week after Christmas before he had to go back to school. (I got 3 days, paid, and there was no bitching, 'cept by Raine who only got one and a half) He spent most of that week, as you might imagine, righting wrongs, rescuing Damsels, saving the earth from alien invaders and reuniting Fairly Oddparents with Timmy. If the occasional bystander was smashed by a large green product of radioactive experimentation and lack of emotional control, who's going to complain, really? Suffice it to say that it wasn't too long into the second half of the school year before The Book became all important again. Strangely enough I didn't see the book for almost a week and a half, but I received glowing reports (from David) about what a good boy my son had been in school. Not wanting to call my son a liar (thinking it, just didn't want to say it) I insisted that he find The Book so that regular communication between parent and instructor could continue. Dude's teacher was also wondering where The Book had gone, writing several notes concerned with its absence. A couple of days later the book reappeared and all seemed to be back to normal.

A bit of explanation is in order. Generally I get to see a flash of The Book as we're careening down the hill next to the school where I pick David up. He flips it open somewhere in my field of view (hopefully not obscuring any pedestrians or immovable objects) so that I can see the Smiley Face, and with a triumphant 'He was a good boy in school today!' The Book is securely placed back in the backpack not to be seen for another 24 hours. Or it never makes an appearance and then I read the Bad Note when we get home. Frowny Faces are only seen at home for some reason. Strange.

The re-emergence of The Book took place on a Wednesday (I wish things wouldn't happen on Wed. so I wouldn't have to try to remember how to spell it). And on that day I noticed that there were already three Smiley Faces drawn in the pages. "Only two more to go!" Dave said as he quickly put the book back in his bag. Only getting a quick glance and thinking that his teacher had filled the week, knowing how important it was I thought no more about it at the time. The next afternoon we were in a hurry to run an errand and I didn't get a chance to look at The Book at the usual time, so when we got home I asked Dave to bring me his bag so I could sort through his school things and Lo and Behold there was a note next to the (now obviously) forged Smileys covering the first two of the previous three days. "David Was Making His Own Smileys" Ahh the plot thickens. Fearing that his Father might not consider it an official 'Good Boy Week' when all five days weren't filled out, and not wanting to put Mrs Yarosz through all the work of making those two smileys herself (or run the possibility that she might NOT put smileys on those days) Dave considered the matter and decided to take care of things himself. Needless to say Dad was not amused and we had several talks that weekend about how Dude Smileys were NOT official and would be considered as Frowny Faces from then on. Also a note was forwarded to Mrs. Yarosz that the Great Smiley Forgery Company was no longer in business.
Most kids reach a stage in their lives where they're pretty good at assessing what they can and can't ask their parents for. How much bugging they can do before their parents transform into a mushroom cloud of destruction. That sort of thing. Dude doesn't have that. Mine and Raine's job is to say no... a lot. Unlike a typical child David doesn't ask for a multitude of things, but the things he likes he asks for repeatedly. These things include (but are not limited to) cheeseburgers, Mac n Cheese, Chicken Nuggets, Catsup, and Ranch Dressing, in the edible department. And is mostly limited to Games in the non-edible.

As far as Dude is concerned the only reason for us to leave the house is to get Games. (Fast Food is delivered by that Dad guy, and he rarely has to leave the house for it) He knows where every GameStop is in the Tri-State Area, so no matter which direction we travel, he's in the back giving me directions to get to the GameStop in that area. Doesn't matter that we haven't been to Boardman Ohio (about 75 miles away) in about 2 years or which direction we come at the city from, he's giving me directions from the last exit to the parking lot. He cares nothing about the BIG SALE at Gabriel Bros. or that CD Warehouse is having a clearance on DVD's, or even who we think we're going to visit in the hospital. It's quite obvious (to him) that his father, because of his advanced state of senility, has quite forgotten the actual reason for the trip. So it's his job to remind the poor fool the realities of the situation. Of course implied in this is the notion that this same senile old fool has forgotten the current Frowny tally. A condition that he doesn't seem to feel the need to correct for some reason.

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