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Monday, October 24, 2011

Box of Chocolates

I am outside in my garden pulling weeds and pruning on Sunday morning.  I am enjoying the cool, Fall air and trying my best to stay away from my family.  You know...so close...yet not far enough.  Every last one of them, besides my mother, have trampled all over my last nerve in the past 24 hours.

So you could have knocked me over with a feather when Red walks out the door wearing sports attire and IPod sports-band.
"I'm going for a walk," he announces.
There has been no prompting from me...at least not this morning.  I had suggested the night before when he was in a bit of a funky mood to go walk it off.  The little park we have around the corner from the house has recently installed a walking track made of crushed granite.  His excuse for not exercising is that I don't take him to the Y often enough.  Then there is the excuse of not walking in the neighborhood because of the cats may come up to him.  Whatever that's about...

He walks a total of 8 laps...ON HIS OWN, and by this time, it isn't exactly cool outside.  There is no shade on this track.  I am so proud of him!
"I'm going to loose this weight.  You have to stay on me mom!  Even when I'm mad...especially when I'm mad, because walking will make me feel better.  You have to make me do it!"
The irony there is that when he's mad...even when he isn't...I can't MAKE him do anything unless I threaten him with bodily harm.  With me being 5 foot nothing and about 100 pounds lighter than him, that doesn't really go very far. In fact, it usually just makes him even more angry.

We spend the day together.  I take him and his friend to the airport to go plane spotting.  The day is relatively pleasant other than a brief screaming match over my asking him to turn the sound down on the radio in MY car, which has me questioning why the heck I am spending my Sunday with him in the first place.

On our way back home,  his friend is starving and wants Subway.  Red gets ice cream from Baskin Robbins, next door.  His reasoning is that he doesn't want to have more than one soda per day.  (Yeah...ice cream is so much better!)  When we get home, he asks me  if I would like to go back out to walk so that he can burn off those calories.  Wow!

We walk 4 laps...in the dark.

Life with Aspergers is like a box of chocolates.  You never know what you're gonna get.

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