Shared Memories Are Sweet (#372)

“Giff, phone!” Said Charlie when my cell phone rang. “Bye bye!”

And, when I put my hand in my bag to give Jim a quick report about what a good day Charlie had yesterday at school and during his ABA session, Charlie—-who had just been splashing up a storm amid the other kids in the shallow end—turned and shot me a sideways glance signaling ahem!.
As in, here I am your so-called lovely boy and you’re going to talk on the phone instead of watch me???!!!??.

I got the point.

Jim laughed when I told him why I hadn’t given him the “check-in call.” “It’s autism advocacy Charlie-stlye,” said Jim. “When you’re with him, he wants you there for him.”

So much for the “myth of the person alone,” as Douglas Biklen puts it.

After school today, Charlie found his still-favorite Sesame Street CD (after grinning ear to ear to hear Jimi Hendrix in the car, a kid’s got to be a kid in his listening pleasure) and turned on the CD player. “Farmah inna Dell! Wow Wow Boat!” He was lying on his big blue pillow and wriggling, thrilled.

And when I stretched out on the floor beside him, Charlie shot me a glance, and we listened on together.

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