Big Daddy Autism

Griffin has a great sense of humor. He usually doesn’t tell jokes, but he acts silly for a laugh and he understands sarcasm. Maybe not all the subtle nuances and cleverness you all are used to in my poop and fart posts. But most of the time he can tell when we are teasing him.

.

The other Friday evening, Lil Sis was at a sleepover, Mrs. Big Daddy was sound asleep, and Griffin was readying himself for bed. Since about 15 minutes had passed since my 4^th “last” late night snack, I thought it time for a Turkey breast sandwich.

.

My prose may be brilliant, but I am a bumbling idiot when it comes to figuring out how to open food packaging these days. There was some “easy open freshness seal” on the package of lunch meat, but I had to resort to opening it Neanderthal style. There was grunting and stabbing with primitive tools.

.

As I was finally making my sandwich, Griffin came into the kitchen for a glass of water and, with comic timing that would put Jay Leno to shame, he said;

.

“What is all the noise in here? Are you having a party?”

.

Okay. So it wasn’t A-List material. But coming from Griffin, it was truly spectacular.  I was still chuckling as he pranced (yes he prances) off to brush his teeth. No more than a few seconds later, I heard him drop his plastic toothbrush holder on the tile floor of the bathroom. It made a racket.  So, being the comic genius I am, I made way over to the bathroom and said;

.

“What is all the noise in here? Are you having a party?”

.

It’s what we refer to in the comedy biz as a “callback.” Griffin and I started to laugh hysterically! I think he got the irony of the situation. Griffin telling a goofy joke is nothing new. However, sharing in some irony with me was tremendous.

.

He’s always understood the sarcasm (survival instinct in our family). A few weeks ago he showed me some empathy when I was in the hospital. And now, irony!

.

Who would’ve thought?

.

Griffin came running into our bedroom in a near panic the other evening. The following conversation ensued;

.

Griffin:  “Bananas do not need to be cooked?”

.

Mrs. BD: “No Griffin. Bananas are a fruit. You can eat them raw.”

.

Griffin: “I will not die?”

.

Mrs. BD: “No baby. Go ahead and have one. I just bought them today.”

.

Griffin: “They are fresh? I will not die if I eat them?”

.

Mrs. BD: “No sweetie. Go eat one.”

.

Griffin: “I already ate two of them just now.”

.

As quick as he came, Griffin darted from the room. Mrs. Big Daddy and I went back to watching TV without needing to utter a word to each other. We are clearly raising an alien life form of some sort and we know it. No need to discuss what had just transpired.

.

Griffin is more obsessed with talking about his own health than Richard Simmons and Jack LaLanne combined. The thing he is, he is all talk and no exercise or dietary restraint. Irrespective, he takes his health seriously. A great example of this is a recent father-son outing to Steak –n- Shake, that bastion of healthy eating!

.

The milkshakes had arrived and the food was on the on the way. So, all was good with Big Daddy and Griffin. Then it happened.   He started to panic and blurted;

.

“I will not die! I will not die! I will not die! I will not die! I will not die!”

.

Since milkshakes are a regular part of his diet, I was surprised that he would, all of sudden, be concerned with cholesterol or triglycerides.  But no.  Once there was a brief break in the hysteria, I ascertained that his fear of immediate death was brought upon by getting a tiny piece of the straw wrapper in his mouth.

.

Yup, the kid who eats Doritos by the case and used to dine on dirt, was now convinced his time in this world was about to end because a miniscule piece of paper touched the inside of his mouth. Though I was able to calm him down a bit, he spent the next several days wiping his tongue ferociously.

.

I’m still not altogether convinced that he believes he is out of the woods from the accidental straw wrapper consumption. We are monitoring the situation closely.

.

Griffin is a sloppy eater.  Very sloppy. Our dog loves that he is a sloppy eater because our dog’s diet consists mainly of whatever Griffin drops on the floor.  This works out pretty well in that it saves Mrs. Big Daddy from washing the floor and I get to share my cholesterol medicine with our morbidly obese dog.

.

Recently, Griffin came bopping out of his room and threw a plate in the sink. That clue, and the fact that he was wearing more than half a slice on his shirt and face, led us to believe he had been snacking on some apple pie.

.

Right before his grand entrance, the rest of the family had been wondering where the dog had been for the past hour or so.  Griffin’s appearance implied an answer.  However, we wanted to make sure we didn’t leave him in the back yard chasing squirrels so we asked Griffin if he’d seen the little canine.

.

Griffin replied;

.

“He is in my room eating leftovers.”

.

I’m not sure I would have called food that falls on the floor “leftovers,” but we got what he meant.  However, consider this post as a warning to all future house guests to be leery if Griffin offers you “leftovers” when you visit.

.

.

.

.

.

For the record; I’m fairly certain he did not get “hit.”

.

.