Big Daddy Autism

Obviously, Mother’s Day 2012 is in the past and many a divorce lawyer is being flooded with initial consultations.  Thankfully, the Big Daddy Clan avoided (just barely) a similar fate. I think. I hope. Um, I’ll get back to you on that one.

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Like many kids, Griffin made a gift for his mom in school.  This year it was a canvas / beach bag with little sayings and notes to mom written or drawn on.  Griffin’s was covered with all the typical sayings that were obviously “suggested” to him but we believe one of the sentiments towards the top of the bag was 100% his own.  Smooshed right between “My mom is my valentine” and “Mom is great” was this beauty,

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“I love my mom because she brings me to fast food restaurants!”

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I didn’t scribble it on a tote bag, but that’s also one of the reasons I love Mrs. Big Daddy.

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A few days back, Lil Sis had a friend over for dinner.  Her friend (who just turned 11 and also has a sibling on the spectrum) had never met Griffin before.  At the dinner table, Griffin opened the conversation with our honored guest by wishing her a happy Earth Day (it was) and then asking her how many kids she had.

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Without missing a beat, she told Griffin that she had not had any children yet and would probably be waiting to get married, or at least meeting the right guy, before becoming a mother.

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I think the time for us to have “the talk” with Griffin is fast approaching.

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John Glen, Charles Lindbergh, and now Griffin.

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Long time readers know of Griffin’s infatuation with elevators and our fairly regular mall safaris required to give him his fix.  He usually goes with Mrs. Big Daddy and Lil Sis since they like to go to the mall anyway and I tend to significantly slow down the expedition party on those rare days when I feel up to tagging along.

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Don’t get me wrong, he would much rather go elevator riding with me since our trips are much more efficient.  We hit one or two elevators, head to the food court, and then home for a poop and a nap.  What? Greasy food goes right through me and a big adventure like walking twenty feet makes sleepy.

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The boys make no torturous stops at Abercrombie, Justice, Claire’s, and Hot Topic.  We’re usually in and out like Ninjas while the girls “make a day of it.”  (“Making a day of it” is merely code for spending too much time and money in those barbaric places while occasionally throwing the boy an elevator bone.)  At worst, we get sprayed with a little cologne as we sneak through Macy’s

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Even though he is 14, we never let him ride up and down alone.  Too many variables that may throw him off his game and result in a frantic search of Nordstroms for the boy.  He wears a medic alert bracelet, but I don’t handle frantic searches all that well and the girls wouldn’t want to miss any precious shopping time looking for their missing comrade.

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But last week, when we were an a boys only elevator mission, he asked me if he could ride Saks alone.  He promised he would go straight up to the third floor and come right down.  Once we cleared up the ground rules (i.e. he could not de-elevator and he needed let other passengers on and off if they wanted) I let the boy free to fly on his own.

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Off he went.  As soon as the door closed, I pushed the up button so if Major Tom had some technical difficulties, the elevator would come back down to me on the first floor on auto pilot.  I was a little nervous at first but my trepidations were soon relieved when I realized I could hear him giggling and guffawing the whole way up and the whole way down.

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Upon arriving safely back on the ground floor, he strutted out of the elevator as proud as if he had just landed the space shuttle in a thunder storm.  Blindfolded. He couldn’t stop talking about it for the rest of the day.

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Mission accomplished, Houston.

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In my last post I mentioned (jokingly for those of you who may be sarcasm-impaired) that I dread the day when Griffin’s home planet sends the Mother Ship to retrieve him.  I thought a little more on this “Griffin as an Alien” idea and somehow my wandering mind landed on the horrible 1980s sitcom, ALF.

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At times, living with Griffin is like living with ALF.  If I remember correctly (I’m too lazy to even do a cursory Google search on the show) ALF was an alien who came from the planet Melmack to live with an ordinary suburban family. Most of the plots revolved around ALF missing social cues, struggling with empathy, misinterpreting cultural expectations, being baffled by human to human interactions and trying to eat the family cat.

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Other than the cat eating (and the fact that ALF was an obnoxious, short, furry creature from another planet) this description perfectly describes Griffin.  The way he interacts with the rest of the family and society as a whole is so unique – maybe even a little alien – to anyone who comes in contact with him. He’s a sweeter, cuter version of ALF.

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Again, putting aside the fur, nasty disposition, height, and cat eating issues, the main difference is that life with Griffin is much funnier than that show ever was and we never intend on letting him go back to his home planet without an epic fight.

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Come to think of it though, Griffin has been showing an increasingly disconcerting interest in our feline pets of late.

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