I finally got to do something I've been wanting to do for years. It was as funny as I had hoped, to me anyway.
Years ago I saw the movie Jack Frost; it was Christmas and I was feeling brain dead/cheerful enough to watch the TV holiday movie on at the moment. Now, the context is hazy (I've forgotten the entire movie except for one part), but there's a scene where the young son is complaining to his Mom about having to do something he doesn't want to do. You know, we've all done it as kids, but it so annoying as a parent to be on the other side of immature manipulative techniques (or sophisticated, depending on the level of charming). The boy says, in a whiny voice, "... but Mom..." and her response was great. I laughed so hard. And I resolved right then and there that I would tether this comeback in the back of my mind, and let it loose at the perfect moment.
Ben was a toddler at the time, but yesterday, almost 10 years later, my opportunity came, unexpected, like magic. Un-magically, I was unloading the dishwasher. I asked Ben to help. He came in the kitchen, head to the side, shuffling slowly. "But, Mooommm...." he started, and I perfectly timed,
"Did you just call me butt Mom?"
He stared. The wheels turned. "Nooo..." and while he back-pedalled, I laughed, and then we both burst into laughter. He has a great sense of humour. I even slapped my knee.
Part of the reason why I found this funny, was because it was a hard-earned joke. Ben is, almost always, highly effected by language. Where a coma is verbally placed, tone of voice, order of words, logical context requests(?)... can bring a smooth response and easy compliance, or a long drawn out argument, integrally linked to his mood and level of sensory overload. Oh, the stubborn stare that could have been avoided recently if I had just said "Yesterday you helpfully pointed out that we are low on toothpaste and batteries. I would love your help to make sure we get the right kind of batteries, and at the best price, so how about we go to London Drugs right now which is right beside the Rec Centre where Kate will be for a birthday party from 12:30 to 2:00. This will give us plenty of time to also compare the Canon and Nikon cameras you have been wanting to show me," instead of saying, "We need to leave now to take Kate to the birthday party," in a directional, distracted tone.
And if you just had the thought that kids should just listen to and obey their parents regardless of how they stipulate that the chores get done, I used to agree with you, but then I didn't have a son with Aspergers. And believe me, how you say it matters.
But, sometimes we can breezily shake off words, they make a soft sound, like plink plink of keys on pavement, like I can imagine they might in one of my favourite books, The Phantom Tollbooth. Who needs words when conversational nods communicate the restful delight in sharing an amazing cinnamon bun. Those connections are awesome.
Ben's laughter is infectious and his smile changes how I perceive time; a moment can feel like the best kind of forever.
(Ben just read this post, and said "It was funnier than that, but I can't think of any advice for you.")
