I just have to quickly share with you a perfect autism
moment with Aaron that I had yesterday.
One of the characteristics of autism that Aaron sometimes displays is
that he doesn’t always understand jokes or irony. We had the funniest display of this yesterday
that I’ve seen in a long time.
He stayed home yesterday because we had an appointment
with his state insurance representative.
I decided to make a quick trip to Dillon’s, and of course Aaron went
with me. I told him that he could have
his favorite Cheddar Pasta Salad for lunch, so he was very happy as we walked
into the store. Aaron always gets a
large container, by the way. That’s
important to remember. Oh, and it’s also
important to remember that yesterday was Friday.
We waited for awhile at the deli counter before an employee
walked up behind us on her way to help us.
Aaron was a tad impatient at having to wait, and was just ready to order
his large salad. As the lady asked what
we wanted, Aaron ordered in his usual way.
“Can I have a large Cheddar Pasta Salad?” he asked.
“Only if it’s FRIDAY!” she answered Aaron, with a big
smile as she enjoyed her little joke.
And Aaron just stared at her. He didn’t smile. He didn’t laugh. He only stared at her as if she had three
eyes.
I knew exactly what he was thinking. He was thinking that this woman was
dumb. Of course it’s Friday, he thought.
What is she talking about and why is she
smiling at what she said? It’s just
dumb.
Then Aaron gave a little grunt because he suddenly
realized that something was expected of him, but he didn’t know exactly what
that was. So he gave a small grunt of acknowledgement
as I chuckled and said something about how funny that nice lady was. What I really wanted to do was bend over and
begin a loud belly laugh, but I knew that would only frustrate Aaron further,
so I resisted. And the look on the poor
woman’s face was pretty priceless, although I felt a little sorry for her.
Then it got even better.
There were no large containers on this Friday, so the lady said that she
would fill two medium containers. Oh boy.
“But I want a large,” Aaron told her.
I then told Aaron that two of the medium containers equaled
one of the large containers.
The nice lady began to fill a medium container.
“But I want a large,” Aaron repeated.
“Well, we don’t have a large but I’ll fill two mediums,”
the lady repeated.
Aaron watched her closely as she filled the first medium
container.
“I wanted a large,” Aaron said.
“Aaron,” I said, “two mediums are the same as one large.” I then pointed to the sample containers on
display to prove my point.
“I can’t have a large?” Aaron asked.
Sigh.
“Look, Aaron,” I said.
“You’re getting the same amount in the two mediums as you would get in a
large. Maybe even more!”
He was quiet as the worker finished filling the second
medium container. She handed them to us
and wished us a happy day, saying nothing that time about it being Friday. Smart woman.
I put the two medium containers in our cart.
“So she didn’t have a large?” Aaron asked.
Sigh.
We walked off as I expounded on the wonderful qualities
of getting two medium containers.
“But they didn’t have a large container?” Aaron asked.
I quit counting how many times during that short shopping
trip that Aaron repeated, “She didn’t have a large container?”
Up one aisle and down another, Aaron was trying to
process having to eat out of two medium containers instead of one large. Not even getting a bag of Starburst jelly
beans deterred him from talking about the absence of his usual large
container.
In this one little excursion to Dillon’s, I saw the
complexities and the rigidity of autism in two distinct ways. It doesn’t matter how long I live with Aaron,
it’s always amazing to see how his mind works.
Plus it’s often downright hilarious.
And not “Only if it’s FRIDAY!” HaHaHa!
It’s every day with Aaron!
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