Fifty Shades Of Brown

, , , | Related | July 24, 2017

(My mother is singing a children’s song to my four-year-old nephew. My nephew is bi-racial, black and white; I am super pale white.)

Mom: *singing* “God loves all the children of the world, black, yellow, red, and white.”

Nephew: *stops my mom singing with a frown* “Wait, Grandma! There is no such thing as red children! Or yellow or white. There is only brown!”

(He says this so matter-of-factly that mom can’t help but laugh.)

Mom: “Is that so? Then what color is your mom?” *his mom is black*

Nephew: “She’s just brown. I’m light brown. Uncle [Name] is dark brown.”

Mom: *thinking she’s got him now* “What about Aunt [My Name]?”

Nephew: *considers this for a moment* “Aunty is light light light light LIGHT brown.”

(He’s got the world figured out.)

Now You’ve Really Put Your Foot In It

, , , , | Related | July 24, 2017

(I have just gotten home from working a twelve hour shift and am about to lie down and go to sleep when my older sister barges in, screaming.)

Older Sister: “[My Name], get to the garden NOW! Mom and [Younger Sister] need your help!”

(Tired and confused, I walk outside and find my mom freaking out and my younger sister sitting on the hill beside the garden.)

Me: “Uh… what’s going on?”

Younger Sister: “My foot got stuck in a hole.”

(I look down, and sure enough her left leg is stuck in a muddy hole up to her knee.)

Me: “How did that happen?”

Younger Sister: “I think this was from where Dad tore down that old greenhouse.”

Mom: “CALL 911!”

(I shook my head and headed over the tool shed to grab a shovel. It took roughly ten minutes to dig my sister’s foot out, all while repeatedly telling my Mom “no, we do not need the fire department.” I was not going to cut off my sister’s foot with the shovel all while my older sister paced behind us nervously — and while my younger sister was laughing her head off.)

It’s Time To (Road)Kill This Relationship

, , , | Romantic | July 23, 2017

(My ex is not known to be the sharpest tool in the shed. He once hit an elk because he thought it was a good idea to drive 75 mph to get away from the herd faster. This one evening, I finally figure out how he manages to hit so many animals:)

Me: *seeing a deer standing in the road ahead and realizing ex is not slowing down* “[Ex], there’s a deer in the road.”

Ex: “I’m going the speed limit!”

Me: “But the deer isn’t!”

Ex: “Well, what do you expect me to do? Stop?”

Me: “Yes, stopping would be preferable to hitting a deer!”

Ex: *stopping the car and pouting* “It’s illegal to stop in the road.”

Me: *mental facepalm* “I think it’s allowed when avoiding a collision with a large animal.”

(How I stuck with him for five years, I’ll never know.)

At Least You Have Some Books For Your Extended Recovery

, , | Related | July 23, 2017

(I have an ingrown toenail on my big toe, and my whole family knows. It is very tender and sore. I soak it up very night in some Epsom salt and bandage it. It seems to work, and the pain fades a bit; it’s healing, slowly, but healing. I don’t want to go to the doctor’s, since I’m a student and would rather spend my little money on books than doctors. One day, my mom puts a big pile of hardcover books right outside my closed door. I rush outside, not seeing them, and stub my bandaged toe on them. The wound opens and blood is gushing everywhere. I’m in a lot of pain and it feels like my whole foot is on fire.)

Me: “Mom! Did you put these books outside my door?!”

Mom: *peeps head in, sees blood and me writhing on the floor* “Yah… what happened?”

Me: *explains thru gritted teeth*

Mom: “Oh. Umm…” *leaves awkwardly*

(I managed to clean up my blood and wrap my foot up again, and made an appointment to the doctor. My mom felt bad and took me there and back.)

A Neurologically Atypical Display Of Understanding

, , , , , | Hopeless | July 22, 2017

My boys are three and eight and both have autism. My eight-year-old has ADHD and my three-year-old has ADD and severe speech delays.

After checking out at the meat counter of a small meat shop near our house I try to move to the main check out section. My eight-year-old is trying to run around the shop with our groceries and is struggling to stay next to me. My three-year-old launches himself out of the stroller and tries to race around the shop while screaming. I manage to get them both under control for a few minutes but our stroller gets stuck and the groceries spill all over.

A kind worker comes around from the meat counter and starts to chat with the boys while helping me pick up everything. Once the stroller is unstuck he asks if we want help to our car or the door. He manages to help keep my boys occupied and doesn’t bat an eye when they are acting out from what is deemed normal. He made us feel normal and welcomed. We always go there once a week for our meat and many small things we need because we are welcomed, and it’s a shop that my boys are careful in without me needing to hold them tightly against me.

It’s a wonderful feeling when people treat non-neurotypical kids the way they would treat neurotypical kids.

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