When I think that life just can’t get any better …. Bonnie and Clyde remind me that life is good.
Clyde has Autism and as a result is non verbal. Bonnie is essentially non verbal after her stroke in 2007. I live with 2 people who can not talk to me, but through time and love I’ve learned how to translate their gibberish into what resembles English.
I present to you constant reader: The Christmas Tree Conversation
Translation: The baby wants a Christmas Tree
Me: He doesn’t care about a Christmas Tree
Translation: It’s December 8, he told me he wants a tree. You used to put the tree up on Thanksgiving. Where is the baby’s Christmas Tree?
Me: Mom he doesn’t want a tree…he doesn’t care about a tree. Do YOU want the Christmas Tree to go up?
Translation: Put my baby’s Christmas Tree up. Give me a Marlboro. Stop mouthing off before I put a pillow over your face at 2am.
Me: Mom we don’t have a lot of extra money. I am a Buddhist. We aren’t going to have any presents under it. It’s a lot of work, and I have lots of other things to do. Do you think we can skip the Christmas Tree this year? I don’t feel festive right about now.
Translation: Bitch don’t make me tell you again.
So after Clyde comes home from school, he and I hop into the share car to do errands…that now include looking for additional Christmas items.
Me: Okay we are going to get some of the things that your grandmother asked me to get and on the way home, if you are a good boy, we will stop and get you some french fries.
Translation: I want McDonald’s.
We are driving up the road, and passing the McDonald’s….
Translation: Why the fuck are we passing the McDonald’s? Didn’t I tell you I want McDonald’s? Why aren’t we going to McDonald’s? I want McDonald’s.
First stop on the tour…Dom…I mean Home Depot. We needed rock salt, because the snow will be coming…eventually. We needed a new shovel. I don’t want to talk about the one that we had prior to this afternoon. Please understand though constant reader, it was not adequate…not in the least. While in the Dom…I mean Home Dept, there were Pointsettas on sale. I got a huge one:
Me: Clyde…bring the cart over here to me
Translation: I can’t push that cart…I have Autism.
Clyde bless his heart has learned that he can use his disability to his advantage – sometimes – if I allow him to get away with it.
Me: Clyde bring me the cart.
Translation: I have Autism and we did not go to McDonald’s.
Me: Boy stop acting Autistic and bring that cart over here before I pull out the belt!
(Yes he said mom. He also brought me the shopping cart.)
Next stop the superWalmart.
With the huge Pointsetta that will go into the front window, I now needed something other than the old decorations.
We used to have lots and lots of beautiful decorations. Bonnie spent many years accumulating them. Her thieving sister Valerie took them all when she left the house. Bonnie still asks where is this piece or that piece. I still fall into tears when I have to remind her what happened.
In the Walmart, we passed the $5 DVD bin and I got Clyde an Elmo DVD. Yes he still loves Elmo, and yes I am okay with that. When you look at all of the garbage that is on television these days, some parents, like myself are thankful for that annoying little red monster. He may very well be Illuminati, but he’s not music videos and cable TV sex.
While Clyde was hitting his dougie over his unexpected new video… I was in the Christmas section.
Clyde realizing where in the store we were: growluble
Translation: We are gonna be here all day aren’t we? You are a shop a holic. We have three containers in the basement full of Christmas decorations and you are buying more. I want McDonald’s. If you try to drag me to buy shoes I am going to have a melt down. I am Autistic.
We get the additional decorations, and the other odds and ends we needed like coffee and we are standing in line.
Translation: Why is this line so loooooooooooooooooooooooooooong!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Back into the car and off to the Rite Aid to get the last of the items we were gonna need.
Me: Okay sweetie..we are almost done. Mommy is going to bring up the Christmas tree tonight.
Clyde : growluble
Translation: Tree? I don’t care about the tree. Is Beyonce in it? Will it magically grow french fries? Mom Mom did this didn’t she. She tried to get me to tell you that I wanted a tree. I don’t give a fig about a tree. I want McDonald’s.
After our trip to McDonald’s we pull up to the house and start unloading the car. Clyde unclips his seatbelt, and hops out the car and waltzes up the steps.
Me: Boy get back here and carry some of these bags!
Bonnie out her bedroom window: gerpatapfh
Translation: Leave my grandson alone! He’s Autistic! He can’t carry bags!
I pulled the tree up from the basement and it is sitting out. The branches have to be out for a day so that I can shape it correctly.
Clyde is eating salmon and french fries.
Bonnie is smoking a Marlboro she stole from my pack while I was lugging the tree upstairs.
The Man said he would come and help me untangle the Christmas lights, I told Him the tree was pre-lit. It sounded like He was hitting His dougie…He assures me that He was not. I am not convinced.
In a little while I will pour a cup of egg nog, and sit on the couch with Clyde to watch his new DVD. I will smile and remember that life is wonderful.