Today I need to talk about my little Rain Man. He’s the eldest of my 4-days-away-from-4-years-old twins. He’s a precocious, fiery redhead with a wicked smile and enough energy to pull a VW bus across the country.
He should probably wear a helmet at all times.
If someone came up to me and said, “Which of your children do you vote ‘Most Likely to be Diagnosed with an Autism Spectrum Disorder?” Rain Man. Hands down. No. Contest.
He’s got a lot of Aspie quirks to him already and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out which of the kids lined 32 Cheezits up on the windowsill for funsies.
And before you get all huffy with me, let me remind you all that I DON’T call him Rain Man (to his face) nor do I mean it in a derogatory way. I love Aspies. I married one. Yes, Rain Man’s daddy (We’re calling him Amadeus. You will understand eventually.) has Asperger’s Syndrome. It makes life entertaining and/or a lot like trying to make a Vulcan smile.
I adore Rain Man. He comes up with the best one-liners in the universe. Case in point:
Rain Man: I hate squirrels.
Rain Man: Sometimes they have knives.
He’s going to be a brilliant comedian someday. If he can stop running in to shit and doesn’t become completely unhinged by a wind chime.
PS: That goofy-ass look on Cereal Killer’s face? He gets that from me. Add a full head of hair to that kid and he is my complete mini-me. Not sure if that’s more insulting to him or to me.