I pat around my nightstand, reluctantly find my glasses, and head downstairs, not knowing what mischief may have transpired over the past 20 minutes. These wee-hour melees can be a bit like a suspense scene in a not-very-scary horror movie. Open the door… what will we see… probably not a severed head… but….
And there it is. My kitchen rugs are gone.
Jonny’s sitting at the kitchen table with a big grin and four iPhone 3GS’s splayed out before him. Shredded parmesan, once neatly bagged in the still-open fridge, is strewn over the table and floor, as if some yellow snow had fallen from the light fixture. With a well chewed pink toothbrush he taps at his iPhones, all synced to that 1979 tune, My Sharona.
Well, I’m happy he’s so happy, but… my half-awake head buzzes, “Where are my rugs rugs, rugs rugs rugs, where did they go go, go go go? My Sharona.”
Over our north neighbor’s fence? Over the east one, aka the Corner of No Return? In the hot tub? It’s now 3.25 a.m. and I’m not exactly in the mood to treasure hunt floor coverings. And I can’t help but wonder, Oh great god of missing rugs and whatnot, what reverse jackpots will the chaos of autism bring today?
Autism Society San Francisco Bay Area (SFASA) is dedicated to expanding the limited lifespan care options for the dramatically increasing numbers of adults with autism.
The opinions and assertions stated are those of the individual authors, may not reflect the opinions or beliefs of SFASA, and do not reflect the opinions of the Autism Society of America. SFASA is an independent affiliate of the Autism Society of America, the leading grassroots autism