Dinner with friends…

November 10, 2016

The bizarre things we say and hear in our ASD household. Not to mention all the things we do and do not. Psychiatrists would have a ball watching our life in some form of a reality show… Example: Imagine having guests over for dinner. All sitting around the table, enjoying their food; and here comes half naked boy, grabbing a handful of chocolate cheesecake from our guest’s plate and running with it for his life. Why the guest’s plate and not ours? Because he knows that we’re fast and guard our food too well, while our friends are unaware – or in other words – easy target. Shock in their eyes! Confusion! Awkward!!! Thoughts running through everyone’s heads, exchange of looks between myself and Daddy Bear, guests counting the floor tiles… Do we acknowledge the fact that the boy is proudly “flying” commando or that he’s trying to swallow a massive piece of cake in one go avoiding being caught? Miss V. not making things easier shouts “Mama! Michael has no pants on! Inappropriate!”. Oh, is it now? And so we have a spectacular chase around the dining table.

Chocolate cheesecake guilty look

Our little girl tries to block Booboo from one side as I run from the other direction. Daddy Bear trying to keep guests entertained with a casual conversation on movies, food and politics, as if nothing happened… Nothing to see here, nothing to worry about, let’s keep talking  At the same time Booboo easily pushes Miss V. out of the way to his freedom, or as I call it – bathroom a.k.a. sanctuary of temporary peace and solitude. Of course chunks of cheesecake leave a trail of stickiness all over my floor, which I try to clean immediately, while getting involved in the ongoing conversation – which, I’m sure, makes our guests even more uncomfortable. Hysterical laughter can be heard from the bathroom. Miss V. screaming in horror “Mama! Michael is hanging on the door! He’s breaking the handle! Quickly!”. All this is happening within 10-20 seconds max. In high decibels! High speed, lots of motion and commotion. Our friends exchange shy looks, unsure what they should do or say. Daddy Bear stands up to take our boy off the door. “Michael! No! Don’t eat the soap! Spit it out now!!!”. Then he pops his head through the door and informs me “he just ate a chunk of soap bar, can you check if he’s OK?”. I smile and excuse our guests to swap with DB, so he can continue entertaining our horrified friends…

I could go on, but you get the picture. Odd is the new normal. But I wonder why our friends don’t visit more often… Perhaps they are not big on chocolate cheesecake.

Stay classy and don’t eat bar of soap! Or any soap for that matter; unless it’s all organic. Kidding!!!

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