My daughter Bubbles has three “fiancées”; AKA the boys who like her and have asked her to marry them because just being boyfriend/girlfriend is passé obviously. This last week one of those affianced fellows, whom we shall call Sheldon, and his mommy were both with all of us at my parent’s house.
Sheldon has Asperger’s syndrome, albeit a little more “severely” than Bubbles has it. Needless to say, they understand each other and get along really well … most of the time. However, are the car ride back from my parents house – normally a 4.75 hour trip which turned into a 10 hour trip because of parking-lot traffic jams – there was a tiff.
They were sitting together in the farthest back seat of my minivan and all was going well until Bubbles lost Sheldon’s place in the book he was reading. She picked up the book and the book mark was no more. Not a big deal, right? Wrong. For an Aspy ANY disruption in The Plan causes angst and rage.
Sheldon, already at the end of his rope, reacted like an overwrought Aspy. He yelled at Bubbles and thwacked her in the arm (not hard) with the book. His mother promptly began to scold him on the inappropriateness of this action as a way to deal with stress. Bubbles, understandably indignant that she had been thwacked and yelled at, hollered “I want a divorce!” and laid her head down in her arms to sob Cinderella-style.
Her declaration of divorce intentions broke Sheldon’s heart and he burst into tears. I mean “burst” literally. Tears the size of dimes spurted from his eyes and splashed on his chest he was crying so hard.
It took us a while to calm things down, but after suitable apologies were tendered there was reconciliation between the pint-sized love birds. Nevertheless, the drama was VERY dramatic while it lasted.
Life with an Aspy child is seldom dull. Or copacetic. Or restful.
It’s worth it, though.