January 13, 2011

Cherub Choir and the Governor's Niece

I take da Creature to a "Cherub" choir every week.  It's for kids ages 4-1st grade.  They are angelic, adorable little things, mostly with flowing blonde curls and ballet shoes, often dressed as princesses and they sing and dance to the little songs and it's SO SO SO cute...

Wait...those are OTHER people's children.  I must be channeling some alternate reality because in amongst those lovely children who remind me so much of my first born, neuro-typical, cooperative, calm child there are these other things:  BOYS.  Well, one to be sure:  da Creature.

While they croon in soft quiet voices "skinnamarinkydinkydink, skinnamararinky doo" and expertly perform the hand motions...a wave of a hand resting on the other arm not unlike Native American stereotypes of "How!" da Creature is waving the bottom hand while the top one limply neither waves nor wiggles while he SCREAMS..."skinnmyrinkydink do, skinmyrinkydink" then descends into what cannot be called adorable gibberish and finally lays down on his mat with his plumber's butt in the air.  *sigh*

He also spins like an airplane and he has quite a wingspan, my darling.  He'll take out three kids in one spin and not bat an eye.  So, it was unfortunate that day when the music teacher decided to put HER next to HIM.

To be clear, she's a perfect angel.  She has perfect clothes, curly long blonde hair, weighs about 3 pounds when dressed in perfect matching wool felted coats and hats, and is shy, scared, and barely four.  She's also the Governor's niece.  No foolin'.  THE Governor of OUR state.

da Creature thought she was cute too, apparently.  I remember sitting in the hall, watching this mess unfold, thinking...maybe I should have warned the music teacher not to seat such a small frail and clearly shy child next to da Creature?  Maybe I should intervene?  Who is that darling little girl?  Then, I heard her mother talking in the hall.  Simultaneously, I heard the music teacher calling roll, and heard the unmistakable LAST NAME of the little angel who was unwittingly seated next to da Creature, and realized as he stood up, spread his giant arms, and launched his GIANT creatureness (he now weighs about 75 pounds) at her in his best imitation of a mud slide WHO SHE REALLY WAS.

As the kerfuffle ensued, I decided it was best not to allow myself to be identified so I let the music teacher handle things and slinked (is that a word...slunk, slanked, slinkened?) off to the bathroom.

It's good to get these things out of the way early on, I suppose.

I notice they aren't seated next to each other anymore and she eyes him with THE LOOK, and her mother eyes me with THE LOOK, having correctly identified me through the ensuing rehearsals, and all I can do is wish he came with a little neon sign on his forehead:  "It's okay, I'm autistic and people are teaching me how to be a good citizen, but you're gonna hafta be PATIENT, 'cause I can only get one thing right at a time right now and really my mom thought pooping in toilets was more important today than whatever you're upset about right now."

That would solve it, right?

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