"A Present for Me?"

A week ago Paul and I were in Las Vegas for my nephew’s wedding. In the days leading up to our departure Clark was a wreck. “I go with you please.” “No, Clark, just Dad and I are going.” “Please. I’ll be good. I’ll be nice. You’re lucky you get to go.” The frequency of this conversation increased in number as the day of departure approached. Finally we were in bed, late, with the alarm set for 3:30 a.m. so we could make a 6:00 a.m. flight. Under the door a sheet of paper appeared. This was Clark’s way of apologizing for getting upset because he couldn’t go.

We called home a few times to make sure all was well. “A present for me?” Clark asked. “You’ll have to wait and see.” I told him. When we arrived home it was one of the first questions both Clark and Phil asked. Since this wasn’t a long trip we actually hadn’t bought anything but of course I didn’t tell them that. I had leftover Halloween candy they didn’t know about that would please them as much as anything so I put together two bundles of tootsie rolls. When Clark saw his bundle his face lit up “Thank you Mom.” and with that he gave me a big hug and then removed one and gave it to me before he even ate one himself.

We arrived home late Monday night and then we were leaving Wednesday. I was lecturing on fragile X at Centralia Community College Wednesday night and then we were spending the night in Olympia at our daughter’s. All day Tuesday requests to go with us came from Clark. The conversation sounded much the same as it had the previous week. “No Clark. We’ll only be gone overnight.” While we were reading in bed Tuesday night Clark came in and started dusting our bedroom as he talked about how nice he is. The next morning before we left he was in our room dusting again and this time vacuuming as well. Finally my heart was softened and I gave in. “Okay Clark you can go with us but you have to shower and pack and be ready to go in 30 minutes.” And he was. We had a discussion about appropriate behavior at the lecture since he would see pictures of him (as well as Phil) and would hear me talk about him. He was amazing. He sat on the front row by himself for two hours (Paul was on the back row) with his baseball hat on and his hands clasped together. It was definitely the right thing to do—to take him with us. We celebrated after with ice cream at McDonalds. This is his thank you note for letting him go with us.

Instructions That Came with the Bread Maker

1. Plug in the bread maker.
2. Pour in the ingredients.
3. Choose setting.
4. Pull the machine close to the edge of the counter.
5. Push start and let the fun begin.

A Sweet Thank You

Phil came into the study where I was at the computer. He was laughing excitedly as he pasted something on my back and then ran out. I reached back and peeled off an envelope.
"What is the thank you for?" I asked the still excited Phil who had reappeared at the door.

"For cutting my hair."

I told him that was one of the sweetest thank yous I had ever received. It brightened my day.

(Sondays is Sonny, a name I call Phil.)

Phil's In His Uniform

Therefore, it must be Wednesday. One of the major chores on Wednesday at our house is cleaning bathrooms. Phil is responsible for the boys’ bathroom—toilet, tub, sink, mirror and floor. I have learned personally on numerous occasions that it is best not to clean bathrooms in anything you might want to wear out in public again; therefore, training, which included months of reminders, began early for Clark and Phil. “Some of the cleaning products we use in the bathroom contain bleach. Do you know what bleach is? It makes marks on your clothes that can’t be washed out. Do you want permanent marks on your clothing?” Phil caught on and adopted a uniform—a worn out shirt and green shorts he did not want to wear out in public ever. Notice the decorative marks on the front of his shorts. He, too, has learned by experience.

On Going to the Dentist

I came across this entry in one of my journals.

"I was up early so this afternoon I took a short nap. I was nudged out of drowsiness.

'Cherlyn’s gone.' Clark said.

'I know. She’s gone to the dentist.' I told him.

'You didn’t take her!' he said with urgency in his voice (and I might add with anxiety written all over his face). I was awake now and laughing.

'You’re so cute Clark.'

He smiled. How innocent and sweet. I take him to the dentist, why wouldn’t I take her (his younger sister who has had a driver's license for ten years)."

The New Shirt

“Phil—you have been wearing that shirt for three weeks now, ever since your birthday when your brother gave it to you as a gift. Take it off!!! I’ll wash it.”

Moaning sounds rumbled from deep within him as he stood in the doorway glaring at me like I had asked him to relinquish his shirt forever…. “Nooooo!”

“Phil—if you take it off now I’ll wash it and you’ll have it fresh and clean to wear tomorrow.”

More moaning and then a smile crept across his face as he turned to go to his bedroom “Okay, but don’t shrink it.”

Sound advice to someone who must have done it to one of his shirts sometime in the past.

Amazing!

In September Phil and Clark came home from their weekly bowling with envelopes the size of our kitchen window which had printed on them “Special Olympics Washington BOWL-A-THON”. I always forget about these until they are brought home one random day in the fall of each year but I do recognize and remember when they walk through the door with something large and white. I really do not like soliciting for money—even if it is for a good cause. I always envision spending hours, bundled up in our Gortex coats, rain dripping off us and the envelope, going from house to house trying to find people at home but such was not the case. Phil just right out said “I’m not going. I don’t feel like it.” Clark, on the other hand, is another story altogether. One afternoon I wondered where Clark was; I had seen him outside earlier with his coat on. Sometime later he walked in the house with money and signatures on his envelope. And today he found the final neighbor at home, filled out (well, I actually had to do it for him) the last line, sealed the envelope with $115.67 inside and next Saturday he will hand it over to his coach. I admit to feeling prideful. Way to go Clark! A year from now I will have forgotten and this scenario will be repeated and probably with little variation.