Whitterer on Autism

The Nature of things

Madeline — Fri, 03 Jul 2009 06:51:28 +0000

As with most things around here, I have no idea where it came from, but now it’s here, it provides a whole heap of motivation as well as no end of hic-cups for inattentive parents. For some children, the ability to communicate verbally ebbs and flows, with backlogs and blockages, but sometimes we drown in an unexpected flood.
“Agh!”
“What? Are you o.k.? What’s the matter dear?”
My son fizzes and hops around the kitchen on stiff stick legs and springy toes as the words percolate up from the depths.
“No!”
“No what?”
“Don’t!”
“Don’t what?”
“Agh!”
“!”
“Don’t touch my nature!”
“Where is your nature……..what is……..your nature?”
“Agh!”
He thrusts out a helpful pointy arm to assist me but as he is also spinning in a circle I fail to nail down the point of interest.
“Er….?”
He stops dead to turn his entire body into an arrow where his nose directs attention to the counter top and an overturned glass that covers a pebble.
“Ah…….it’s a pebble……..how…….nice.”
“No! It is being my nature. She is being my friend.”
“You have a pebble for a friend……..how lovely.”
“NO!”
He gingerly lifts away the glass and peers closely at the pet rock, nudges it gently with his forefinger, “Agh! She is goned!”
“Who is goned…..gone?”
“My friend is lost!”
“Ah…..some kind of insect perhaps?”
“Yes. My rolly polly friend.”
“Ah……she rolled away I suspect.”
“Do not be laugh at my nature friend.”
“Sorry…….I…..”
“You are bad to laugh at nature.”
“Yes….sorry……lets look under the rock shall we?”
The rolly polly is revealed in all it’s glorious magnificence for my son to ooo and ahh over with tender gentle words of adoration. He stops, silent and grasps my wrist between his teeth, the same as a crocodile carries her young. We experience a rare instance of direct eye contact before he releases me.
“Itsa rule!”
“What is?”
“Itsa like the laws of physics.”
“What is like the laws of physics?”
“Be kind to mother nature’s creatures……..or she’ll bite you in the butt.”
I like to think that my own performance might have been better, had it not been 3 in the morning, but I suspect that the jet lag excuse may be running a bit thin.

The Fleshpots of England

Madeline — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 06:58:54 +0000

Maybe people have super-sized themselves during the last year or more probably, there has been a gradual expansion in girth over the past decade whilst I have been distracted by other things.

I am uncertain if people are really larger or whether fashion changes have meant that our bodies are more exposed as clothing becomes ever more skippy and close fitting. Whatever the reason, my son observes over a number of days. We are at the coast where holiday makers are prone to wear holiday clothes and swimsuits, very small ones. I notice him looking without comment. Eventually, after much thought he sees fit to share his opinion with me.
“Mom!”
“Yes dear?”
“Dah peoples in England………”
“Yes…….?”
“Dah peoples in England are………”
“Yes?”
“Dah peoples in England are very…..skin……skin……..skinny.”
I’m sure it was very welcome news to everyone within a five mile radius at 50 decibels.

Curiously the boys were not in the least fazed by the numerous topless sunbathers however my daughter, being in the pre-teen stage of delicacy, was thoroughly mortified.

If you enjoy caption competitions and photographs, you may wish to nip along to“DJ Kirkby” over at “Chez Aspie” and test your brain power.