March 27th, 2008 | 14 Comments »

“I found this, Mom”

“What did you find, Ass Burger Boy?”


“I can’t see it, it’s dark. NAME the object you are

holding in your hand.”

(frustrated) “THIS!” I can imagine him pointing to

the object in the dark.

This scenario also repeats itself when I’m driving, or doing something else

that needs full visual attention.

And my eyesight ain’t as sharp as it used to be.

When I can’t discern the object, he will edge closer

and closer to show me, rather than name the thing.

It drives me cah-ray-zee.

Not a long drive these days, I might add.

This is just one quirk I figure is attributable to Asperger’s Syndrome.

Did any of you watch Dawson’s Creek?

The boy is a dead ringer for Dawson.

Out of his mouth come the most bizarre and inappropriate things. He likes to shock people.

The other day, he asked me (a la boxers or briefs)

“Zucchini or cucumber?”

See, your mom isn’t someone you’re supposed to feel

comfortable asking that to.

He doesn’t hear my explanation of this concept (for what?…the zillionth time?)

He is doubled over with laughter.

Smartarse. Thinks he’s Tom Green.

January 5th, 2008 | 27 Comments »

Okay, show of hands, please. Raise your hand if you didn’t realize that I called my beloved younger son Ass Burger Boy as a play on words?

Because he has, you know, Asperger’s Syndrome. Say it out loud. You know it sounds like Ass Burger. I confess I was gobsmacked by the name when he was diagnosed. I immediately requested the spelling.

I bring this up because Marie confessed to not getting it for an entire month of reading my site. She wasn’t alone. Poppy said in my comments:

It took me a loooong while to find out why you call your son ABB. My cousin was standing over my shoulder, reading your blog and then she burst out laughing. I asked her why was she laughing so hard and she made me read Asperger and ABB shortly after. Now I feel slow, because it took a couple of tries for it to sink in.

This called for some action, and I have risen to the challenge. I have edited my About page to explain. Oh, what other crises can I avert?

December 20th, 2007 | 12 Comments »

My younger son, Ass Burger Boy, has made it his mission early in life to find out who he really is. I’m not sure if this is peculiar to him or to Asperger’s Syndrome.

His journey has taken some interesting turns, to say the least.

When he was about nine years old, he was fascinated with black people.

He talked black, he walked black. He did what he could to gather information. He wanted to know about black people on a personal level. This, of course, means engaging in conversation. His conversation skills are noteworthy in that he is articulate, but needs polish.

Every black person he saw, he struck up a conversation with, beginning with the ice-breaker: “I see that you are black.” What? What does a person answer to that? “Good eye, Ass Burger Boy.”????

We live in an area where there is some racial tension. I’m sad about this, but it is a fact of life here. I felt it necessary to advise him that some people might interpret his opening gambit as round one of a fight.

He takes everything literally.

ABB was at my mom’s when I brought a lovely new acquaintance with me for lunch.

ABB, always the social butterfly who Must.Dominate.Every.Freaking.Conversation. gives his dazzling conversation skills his new opening: “I see that you are not black.”

Except that she was.

I lost a potential friend that day because I didn’t have the chops to explain how this whole situation came about.

A few years after that, he became a Back Street Boy. Wore white all the time. Sang all the songs. Attended his prom dressed in white.

Now he thinks he’s Greek. That might be funny if it weren’t true. He switched to the Greek Orthodox Church, serves on the altar, is learning the language, and dreams of living on the Greek Islands.

My wish is that he will discover that who he is can be just fine, without assuming an identity. So far, he’s not buying it.

Whoever said that children don’t come with a manual was so not kidding.