Bob and his big sister were invited to a birthday party yesterday at a really nice play-centre-type-place. I was a little anxious as I wasn't familiar with the place and didn't have much time to prepare for the party. And I'm not the one with autism.
So Big Sister catapulted herself into a small tornado of 10 year olds, and wasn't spotted in civilised society for three happy hours.
Meanwhile my understanding friends weren't offended at my poor conversation skills, lack of eye contact and intense focus on the whereabouts of Bob, as I busily frustrated his plans for escape. (again, I'm not the one with autism, etc, etc)
He navigated three dizzy tiers of the soft play area like a pro, and shot down the slides like a joyful little cannon. All the while he was watching for an opportunistic open gate, a chink in the netting, or a strategically placed chair against a railing, so he could make a mad dash for freedom.
But he knew this wasn't gonna happen with B#*chMother on patrol. So what's an autie kid to do???
He climbed to the top tier, accessible only to those under 3 feet tall, with the litheness of a mountain goat. And stripped off. He dangled his crown jewels and aired his peachy little bottom to the world at large, safe in the knowledge that B#*chMother could not thwart his happy exposure.
I had to wait, head in hands, until he descended the slide in all his splendour.
So he was re-dressed, re-educated in the niceties of social decorum and finally re-released (that's a word, OK?) into his natural habitat of a soft play area full of juvenile delinquents.
And then he stripped off again. In the top tier.
This time there was less discussion and more delivery of information, along the vein of "Three strikes and you're out!".
Bob remained suited and booted for the remainder of the party, and sat peacefully while he ate his chips and juice.
There were no further incidents of anti-social behaviour, but he had about him an air of quiet satisfaction that his work here was done.
(p.s thanks to Lavinia for including Bob in the guest list...next time lets go to a nudist beach tho)
The other day we were in Target and an automated piggy bank made by a big brand caught our eye. Our youngest daughter really wanted it! The piggy bank would count all of the money automatically as your child put more and more money into it. On one hand we thought it was…