Once upon a wandering walk we meandered up roads drab and dreary. Crossing unkept pavement and pristine green lawn this journey felt like from dusk through to dawn. At dad's suggestion, we all need to get fit so a stroll to the park would do a good bit. Dog on his leash was quite eager to go, I would drag his canine butt home. Swings and slides and a carousel the park are frequented rather well, the paint worn away from regular play a clear tell. Not bothering with the noise of suburban places, autistic children enjoy the sounds of wide open spaces, that's why we go to the parks and other such places. Two passing near miss collision upon notice, their smartphones in hand distracting their focus. Oh what fun to reach home at dusk, parents exhausted from the marathon march. Then again who really needs a reason to visit the park.
When upon a windy day we tried to fly our kites away. Turns out you see, flying a kite requires several advanced degrees. From understanding the engineered assembly, thermodynamics and meteorological applicability and the inconsiderate lack of printed instructions in Chinese of which little Ling-Ling doesn't consider when packaging and processing these cheaply made products being shipped worldwide by monster corporations making billions in change while poor Ling-Ling sweats it out in some labour forced workshop for less than 3 cents a day. Modern single string store bought kites have more commercial value than recreational. But it was fun, mostly. Our special needs kid awkwardly tried to make friend with the other children playing the park, sometimes extrovert enthusiasm leaves him in the dark. He did what he could but kite flying requires articulate skills and when the gusts low to disrupt the airflow our buddy loses his enthusiastic glow. This is where dad steps aside, noticing buddy sitting alone with his sighs. Sitting on the bench alongside, pausing for a small sigh. I ask ‘are you okay bud?’
Taking a knee so we can see eye to eye, something autistic children don't have a fondness for, I read the entire soliloquy in one glance; dad I'm fine but we've had our fun, the sun is now hot and outside time is done. I'd like a drink of water if you don't mind and dad, thanks for the effort I appreciate in kind.
‘Cool,’ I said, ‘time to go, I'm also thirty from trying to fly kites don't you know.’ I called the troops, rallied them all, relayed instructions, home time for all. This is what a good day looks like for our special needs family, mom receives a hug from her special little boy, dad takes a knee.
R and R is key you see, routine and repeat is what I mean. ‘Enough Dr Seuss, this isn't a story,’ my wife resetting our conversation, my thoughts sometimes meander. I interrupted his moment of play, part of the routine he repeats every day. 15h30 he plays alone, his decompress time when he gets home. I thought to question all the fuss but quickly remembered he rides home on the school bus which is more than an hour each day. You're usually working at that time of day, what you do for my paycheck is all work and no play. Being at home sick with your ills resest the Autistic watch Netflix and chill. The goes as follows steps one through three, arrive home to pee, eat sandwiches, play. I interrupted step three by accident, it takes twenty minutes to reset, go back one space. Another round of sandwich.
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