May 20, 2007

Sorry Lil' Sister...

I live with my little sister, so I can help her with my nephew. He will be 6 and is Autistic. A strapping young man, he has the strength of three kids and does not understand the whole concept of pain. The harder I wrestle with him, the more I torture him and tickle, the more he loves it. Now, it can be quite taxing and because he has, "Sensory Issues" he always wants this torture and treatment, what I so fondly call it.
For more than a year now, we've known he could read but was never taught. I will set up, some of his games in French and he is able to maneuver right through it. Sometimes, he turns on the game himself and has two choices; English or French and he chooses French.
My lil Sister, is a Princess, for better words. She will be the first to admit this, with her Ann Taylor suits and designer handbags and shoes. We live in an affluent neighborhood, a home she purchased on her own, as an executive, the boss/big cheese for an upper management staffing agency, here on Long Island, Manhattan, Hartford and Stanford. At night, I often drink vodka and iced tea to her fine white wine. I tell you this, not to wow you but to set the scene.
I do not belong here and often do or say things for shock value, it is in my nature. So, I will talk to sis at night, now and again and somehow, I always say something that gives her a contorted look on her face. It's sometimes a truly painful look and sometimes, I enjoy it.
We are cut from a different cloth, in many respects and we always enjoy each others company but I do put her through the rigors of street life. I am currently writing my book in conjunction with a wonderful fella, a Law Professor/Criminal Attorney and will recount what I'd worked on, that day. I Podcast my stories to my writer in Philly and almost always talk to sis at night about it. I never realized the difference, so much, till lately, of how protected and sheltered many people are or how civilized their worlds were, compared to mine, until now. But I do so love to make her cringe.But that is not the point of this post. I try to keep her abreast of what's going on, the little things and interactions I have with my nephew...
Ryan has very little language. He will get what he wants or make it known by insinuation and charades or as he guides me around the house, pulling me to wear he wants me to go. He's been known to rip me out of my chair, excited about something he wants to share.
I told her, "Well, I knew he was in his room, I could hear him, up there jumping around. It was a golden opportunity, as I had to poop. Don't you know, almost as soon as I went in there, here he comes. I heard him coming and shut the door but he got in. He was pulling on my arm, he wanted something. I told him, 'no B is pooping, you have to wait,' but he kept pulling on me. I was stuck, you know what I mean? But I tried to hurry. He walked away and came back and was trying to lift me off the toilet himself, lil bugger." She smiled, as she said she knew and he'd come in while she was showering, tried to make her get out and then left the bathroom door open. Then the clincher...I said well I was wondering but I didn't do it on purpose...she said "what" I said, "well I had some really bad gas the other day. Garlic and eggs, they were hot," I said it just like I would if we were talking about the Stock Market and I was telling her the Dow Jones just dropped 3 points. She said, "Eeeeew" and that stirred the dominatrix in me. I then said, "Yea, I was wondering and well, we were wrestling and there was not time. He jumped on my stomach and it was a done deal." She's looking at me, like she's just seen someone take a shit, on the sidewalk, in Midtown Manhattan. "So he squished my stomach and it just came out. It rose like a green cloud and wrapped around his face and he didn't flinch, he didn't bat an eye. I wish I could be like that." I looked up and could have sworn she was gonna throw up.
The one and only time he has ever acknowledged that something stinks, was about a year ago. I have a long bag, filled with field corn, that you heat up, in the microwave. I wrap it around my neck. You can't wear a hat or anything odd, just as I was wearing that bag around my neck. He pulled it off me and threw it on the floor. It smells kinda like popcorn but possibly not so pleasant. I picked up the bag and put it in his face, against his nose. He whipped it away. He then walked back over to it, smelled it again, himself, made a face and whipped it even further. But never before had he acknowledged that something stinks. I do wish I could be like that. The End


GREAT TRUTHS THAT LITTLE CHILDREN HAVE LEARNED:

1) No matter how hard you try, you can't baptize cats.
2) When your Mom is mad at your Dad, don't let her brush your hair.
3) If your sister hits you, don't hit her back. They always catch the second person.
4) Never ask your 3-year old brother to hold a tomato.
5) You can't trust dogs to watch your food...


Read the rest here.

6 comments:

Webmiztris said...

I wish I could be like that too. when jason lets out one of his toxic farts, I could just DIE...lol

Xmichra said...

Although my life was different from yours.. boy do I get what you are saying. My yougest brother is my junior by 11 years. i was out of the house by 16... so in that short amount of time that I was there we never really knew eachother. When he moved in with us in January, it was kinda odd... we would be with other people and talking about the good old days of belt lashings and strangers int eh house from parties... and he had no idea. He grew up as sheltered as could be. Which is good i think... but it is definately hard for him to relate too me. And he gets that same disturbed look in his eyes when i portray our family in a different light....

Jonathan said...

I have autism in my family, and there isn't a thing I wouldn't do to find a cure for it. It's heartbreaking.

Babsbitchin said...

webmiztris, it would be nice. I elaborated on the story a bit but, I wish I could be so free to fart and be proud of it.

Babsbitchin said...

xmichra,exactly, you hit the nail on the head. Different life. I think my parents were trying to get into heaven once I left home and lil sis never knew them as I did, lol!

Babsbitchin said...

jonathan, it is so perplexing, ya know. I read in Time mag that, well they described it best; you have all this local telephone service but no long distance. Meaning all this info is in there but it's hard to get a long distance line to get that info out. Thanks darlin'!