'Grader' Problems

*Photo courtesy of Canva

This one shot/short story is written for the 'It's Ok To Not Be Ok' Contest by CoffeeCommunity, commemorating World Mental Health Day. 

(May it make you smile 😁).

Prompt used: 'The last time you laughed really hard'. 

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The day begins like any other in my life. I wake at 4:30 with my ten year old son, my eyes prying open slowly, not fully out of my dream state from moments before. It was a school day. This meant the employment of our weekday schedule. Get dressed, the both of us, herd everything downstairs and get breakfast going. I'm so used to it after years of the same thing, I could do it in my sleep. Wearing a clown suit. Or a gorilla costume. Any which way really.

"Did you buy more mini donuts mom?" 

My son asks this question pretty much every day. He is a mini powdered donut fiend. One who happens to also have autism, or the artist formally known as Asperger's. Sorry, have to slide a Prince joke in! 

"Yes son. We have mini donuts. But you need to eat some fruit too." 

He grumbles a bit, as he usually does. He has a list of preferred foods. I let him eat them but also slide in the less preferred, in textures he can handle, just to balance things out. This can be a common problem for some kids with autism and I assume some adults that happen to have autism as well, if they haven't adapted to more variety. 

"Will you put some beef jerky in my lunch box?" He asks. 

"Yes, but make sure you don't give it all away....I want you to eat your lunch, not your entire class." I say.

He grumbles again but agrees. He's a very social kid, and has quite a few friends. Not a terrible problem to have. Even if they try poaching his food. 

 I get his bento lunch box filled with tiny assortment of things and then ready my morning coffee cup. I have to have a serving of decaf, black with nothing in it, to get my day going. It's the taste. The glorious Hawaiian filtered taste. Nothing on earth can transport me back to the islands and all its accompanying sensations quite like my daily cup of joe. A parents moment of nirvana. 

He eats and I clean, more daily rituals. 

By this time my husband gets up and starts his day. We are like ships of different sizes moored in the same harbor. He a speed boat that takes tourists around and me a tiny tug, with a different job to contend with all day. We banter as my son gets his shoes on and I gather up all his school items. Dad jokes fly down the stairs as we leave the house. 

If the world was a weight around my neck, it would be one of those rusty love locks on the Paris bridge. They carry worn secrets with them, on display for any poor sap brave enough to venture near. But like anything else, all you can do is keep moving forward. Giving in isn't an option. 

To school we go. 

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"We can play that if you want." I say, watching my son scroll through the games on the Switch. 

Sitting in the school parking lot, we do another ritual. He likes me to get here early and park in the parking lot instead of sitting in the parent drop off loop. This way, we can hang out together for a good half hour, the game console propped up on my Jeep's dashboard. The heater keeping us warm, we contemplate what game to play today. 

He looks at me with a thoughtful face. 

"I don't mean to offend you...but you are a noob at that one mom. I'm able to win the harder levels when dad plays with me."