Which is kind of fitting, since they seem to always travel in a tribe.
(Don't worry, they weren't let loose on the general public looking like this - we dropped and collected them from an adult supervised bithday party, held at a school-friend's house!)
And no, I did not take this picture, despite their pleas. They had to seek out lil’ sis’ Abby, (the sensibly dressed Zombie) for the photo.
I’d sloped off for a rare, precious early night. Propped up against a multitude of pillows, happily snuggled up reading a gruesome, true-life murder (hey, c’mon, we all have our own way of celebrating Halloween, don’t judge!), and having just emerged from a glorious long soak in the tub, with face-mask applied, and toe nail-varnish still a-drying, I’m settling back into Shrinky-heaven.
Then, BLAM, all hell breaks loose! Suddenly my bedroom is invaded by a bunch of cave-girls, all screaming for a photo-shoot.
Well sod that, is nothing in life sacred?
With hubby lumbered to ferry them around for the night, I’d thought I was safe. Naturally, I told them all to bugger off and sent them packing (inadvertently splintering my face mask into a thousand cracks in the process).
"Hey Mum, you should come along, you're a natural for a Witch!"
Oh my, did they laugh - hmph, so much for dignity, eh?
All the same, payback is mine (smug grin).
Seems no one told them there's good reason cave-girls don't hunt wearing four inch stiletto’s.
(No, I’m not gloating, not really – well, okay maybe just a teensy, tiny little bit.) That's Karma, that is, for her laughing at me. It’s okay, there’s no real lasting damage ‘tis only a bad case of the blister’s, but it doesn’t look like she’ll be playing much hockey this week.
Moving swiftly on..
Say hi to Squirt, Abby’s new room-mate. I’ve been a very busy bunny this past week, re-decorating her and squirt’s new living quarters.
Wish I had thought to remove my jewellery, and pin my hair up before starting in on the ceiling, ah but what the hell, it’s sure served as a sharp learning curve, hasn’t it?
Staying on the home front, it appears Sam’s new college friend has taken quite a liking to our place. Sam keeps showing up at the car with him in tow, assuring me his mum said it’s fine for him to come home for tea with us.
I’ve yet to meet his parent’s, as it’s proved rather difficult to talk to them. On the rare occasion I have asked A. to pass his mum on, she’s refused to take the phone, claiming to be too busy.
I eventually managed to have a brief conversation with his dad, who, without even enquiring where we lived, happily gave me Cart-Blanche to have A. back to our house anytime he pleased.
A. is a sweet lad, very gentle and caring around Sam, but he lives 15 miles away, and I truly have to juggle to drop him home again. Sam has clubs after college, and the girls invariably need a ride after school to their various sporting activities, frankly, I’m spread pretty thin as it is with hubby off the isle. That said, this is the first real “friend” Sam has ever made, and I have never seen him so happy as he’s been over these past few weeks.
A. joined Sam’s life-skills group in September, along with a group of other kids from a previous school. I believe he lives with Asbergers’ (a form of autism), but it isn’t coupled with the severe learning difficulties which Sam and most of his peers have. I’m told integrating these new kids into this course has proved challenging to the tutors. Far more able and independent, most of these teenager’s have been excluded from previous mainstream school(s) due to disruptive behaviour. The majority of these guys appear to suffer from ADHD (attention deficit disorders) and have special needs very different from the ones Sam and his regular group live with.
As a teacher recently confined, “I now count the day a success if I can reach the end of it without serious incident.” As you might imagine, this has given me more than small cause to feel worried.
That said, A. is not at all the stereo-type I expected. He may lack some crucial social skills (a common trait in those living with Asberger’s), but he is kind, eager to please, and very easy to be around. True, he does get bored and has a short attention span, always jumping from one activity to the next, but he does have the ability to focus on those things which do interest him, and one of these, as luck would have it, is PlayStation. Sam and him both share a mutual love of gaming, and can happily spend hours together playing on it.
He does invite himself round far more than is convenient, and asks to sleep over every time. I usually parry this request by saying I need to clear any overnight stay with his parents first. Last week A. phoned me, and passed his father on the line. He had no objection to A. staying Saturday night with us.
It’s not that I mind him sleeping over, not exactly, it’s just that it’s hard work explaining to him why Sam doesn’t enjoy the same freedom as he does. For example, Sam is functionally illiterate, and unable to so much as cross the road on his own, he never goes out without a responsible adult to accompany him. A. on the other hand, makes the fifteen mile journey into college on his own, and his hobby is fixing up motorbikes (seems his parents are keen bikers). A. gets restless here, and tries to entice Sam to go out with him. I can never allow that to happen. So it wasn’t without a little misgiving that I agreed to have A. spend the weekend with us. Setting a Saturday drop-off time for 3pm, I figured I could probably summon the energy to cope for the day.
Both he and Sam were very excited at the prospect, and could talk of nothing else. I reminded A. to pack his PJ’s and toothbrush, but it turns out he usually sleeps in the same clothes as he wears during the day.
Everyone to their own, I guess.
On the appointed day, despite his father having agreed to the 3pm drop off, A., very conspicuously alone, landed up on our doorstep a full 5hrs earlier than expected. His dad hadn’t even seen fit to ring the doorbell before driving off.
Luckily for A., least we were at home.
The weekend was fine, there were no problems at all – it was tiring, but successful – both the lads got along like a house on fire. However, on the ride back to A’s home, a few things came up in conversation that almost had me crash the car!!
Oh hell, I started this off as an up-beat post, now look to where it’s heading! Truth is, A. behaved himself impeccably well during his visit, I truly like this kid, and am (okay, was) thrilled Sam has a friend.
Driving along, I attempt to make small talk.
Me: So do you have any brother's or Sister's, A?"
A. "Yeah, he's 18. I hate him."
Me "Surely not? He's your brother, brother's should stick together."
A. "He used to smack me about, but I can flatten him now. He's not got ADHD or nothing, he's normal, but he still got expelled from school."
Me: (warily) "Yeah?"
A: "Yeah, he's racist. But I don't like them either - what do you call them, them who speak funny?"
Me: "Um, immigrants?"
A: "That's them, yeah. Steal our jobs, don't they? And they got him kicked out of school."
A: "My brother got a job, but they sacked him for stealing mobile phones."
Me: "He stole the boss' phone?"
A: "No, it was a mobile phone shop."
(Even longer silence.)
Me (brightly attempting to change the subject): It was nice of you to help Sam out when he was upset at college last week."
I'd found A. comforting Sam, who was in tears, when I'd come to collect him. A girl he likes had told him to shut-up. A. had put his arm around him, telling him she didn't mean it.
A: "That's alright, I've known Sam for a long time, he went to (Sam's old school) with me."
Me (puzzled): "Really? How come I never saw you there?"
A: I only went there two afternoon's a week, they wouldn't let me go full time."
Me: "What? That's terrible, why ever not?"
A: "Dunno. They sent me there after I broke my teacher's arm. My mum told her not to get in my face. If I ever get mad, all you gotta' do is hug me, everybody knows that. Even mum said it wasn't my fault - served her right."
(Panic - panic - panic - eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek - keep drivng Shrink, focus, focus!)
Me: "Shall we just listen to the radio for a bit?"
(Mental note to self: NEVER leave Sam alone with A. ever, ever again.)