The other night, Aaron and I were watching a DVD as he munched happily on his jar of peanuts.
“Mom!!” he suddenly exclaimed. “What’s this on my dry roasted and salted peanuts?”
That by itself was funny, the way he says the complete name of the peanuts printed on the jar. Of course, Aaron sees nothing unusual about that at all.
What WAS unusual, to him, was the little thing that he held up for my viewing.
“What’s what?” I asked as he held something miniscule up for me to see.
So Aaron quickly pushed back his blanket, crawled out of his chair, and stood beside me with his open palm carrying the mystery object.
Before I could tell him what “it” was, Aaron decided to first inform me of what he thought “it” was.
“It’s the cover that’s on some of the peanuts,” he told me.
This isn’t the first time that Aaron has called the thin skin on peanuts a “cover.” It had been awhile since we had carried on this conversation. I therefore told him once again that the “cover” was actually a thin skin that remained on some of the peanuts after they were processed.
“A skin?” he asked. “Can I eat it?”
I assured him that he could eat it. Later, after he had gone to bed, I found several peanut coverings on the table…ones that he had set aside, not to be eaten along with his dry roasted and salted peanuts.
Yesterday, Aaron and I ran down to Dillon’s to buy him some lunch. There in the entry were some little Girl Scouts selling their Girl Scout cookies. Aaron had walked ahead of me, so as I grabbed a cart one of the girls focused on Aaron.
“Would you like to buy some cookies?” she asked him.
But Aaron had spied the salad bar. At that moment his entire focus was on lettuce and cheese and boiled eggs and lots of ranch dressing…not on little girls with yummy cookies for sale.
Aaron completely ignored the girl’s question as he barreled in the open door and headed for the salad bar. I was hurrying after him, because Aaron is sometimes a disaster at salad bars. My job is to keep his fingers out of the tempting toppings, his head out from under the plastic shield, and to minimize spillage as he insists on “doing it myself!!”
But as I rushed by the sweet little scout, I definitely saw the look on her face. She was confused by Aaron; for many reasons, I’m sure. One of the big reasons, though, had to have been the way he completely dissed her and her question. She was totally ignored.
I smiled at her as I scurried by, thanking her and saying no thanks, and wondering what she must have thought.
I survived the salad bar with Aaron, even as he told me I was rude for taking the tongs away from him as he spilled first some lettuce and then some cheese, and as I yanked the ranch dressing bottle from his hand before he squirted half of it on his salad. A man was awaiting his turn, and as I turned to walk away he just smiled at me. Aaron does have a way of becoming the center of attention no matter where we are.
I grabbed a few more items and then we went through the self check-out, me reminding Aaron over and over to stand beside me. No wandering off to inspect other’s purchases, engage a random stranger in conversation, or sit down at a Starbuck’s table up the aisle while he ignored the worker who asked him if he wanted something. All of the above…and more…he has done, trust me.
It was easier this time, though, because Aaron was keeping his eyes on his salad. After I had paid for everything, he took his salad and held it in his two hands. He walked this way out of the store, holding that salad ever so carefully, as if he was carrying a delicate Ming vase that he dared not jostle at all.
Aaron was once again so focused on his salad that when the young man who was overseeing the self check-out spoke to Aaron, Aaron once again totally ignored him. And once again I saw that look on the employee’s face, the look that mirrored the one on the little Girl Scout. A moment of confusion at being dismissed in such fashion.
But I also saw the young man’s face relax with understanding as I was sure he was quickly processing the reality that is Aaron. And as I walked by, I spoke to him as I chuckled, and he broke out into a huge grin. He got it!
How is it that Aaron can pay attention to a tiny little peanut “cover” while totally ignoring human beings who are speaking to him?
Elementary, my dear…elementary.
Autism. Pure and not so simple.
Aaron often notices what we don’t notice, and ignores what we do notice.
When it comes to ignoring people, we can be downright embarrassed at times. And then there are those times that it’s probably better for him to not notice certain people.
Anyway, the complexities of autism take many years and many experiences to understand. Plus each individual is just that…an individual who is unique in how autism presents itself in their life.
That’s why it’s called a spectrum. A “broad range of varied but related ideas or objects.”
Except Aaron is not an idea or an object. He is a unique and varied human being, one who delights and engages and ignores and yells and frustrates and…
Well, you get the picture. At least I hope you do! Because then you can smile more as you enjoy the broad and varied view.