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Not long for this world

As Dyskinesia has said, our 8-year-old little guy is going to be with my parents all next week.  And he’s been a bit more clingy than usual this past week.

Yesterday I had two tasks on my way home:  1)  Swing by and grab some milk, butter, ice cream, and of course Dys’s favorite potion, and 2) grab some Chinese for dinner.

Well, I didn’t want dinner to get cold or the milk to spoil in the hot car.  Since I more or less had to go back past the house anyway, I went to the grocery store, swung by the house and dropped off the cold stuff, THEN went to get dinner.

Dys, our son, and his friend were outside when I stopped by.  As I backed out of the driveway, I told my son I’d be back later.  “Okay, dad.”  I continued backing, until “HEY, DAD!  WAIT!”

I looked up and he was running toward the car, so I stopped.  Still running up, he hollered “HUGS AND KISSES!”  When he got to my open window, he leaned through, gave me a kiss, and a quick hug.  Then “Bye, dad!”

Meanwhile, his buddy was about ten feet away.

Wow.  That’ll make it maybe another year, two if we’re lucky, then it’s gone for good.

Sure was nice, though.


5 Responses

  1. Excellent moment. Glad you got to share it.

    Me too.

  2. Your son has such a great heart.

    He really is the sweetest kid I know. He can be a stinker, like everybody I suppose, but when it all comes down to it he would never hurt a fly.

    I’d be lying if I didn’t say that sometimes that’s what worries me. The world is not often kind to sweet, naive kids, and ASD kids can be particularly vulnerable. And by all that’s holy, it would be a catastrophic loss to have that sweetness broken. Hence the tendency on the part of both Dys and myself to be a bit overprotective at times, even when we know better.

    We’ve got a damned great kid, and we’d like to keep him just how he is. Just, you know, translate it into a well-adjusted adult with fully-developed coping mechanisms. What, is that too much to ask?

  3. I have nothing better to say than, awww.

  4. Those kinds of moments help me forget all of the tantrums and what-not.

    What was that from, the comic strip Baby Blues or something, when the mother says something about a moment like that being the only thing that stopped her from running off to Spain to be a dancer in a roadside bar?

  5. My son is eight too. The kisses are gone, but I still get a hug every night. Our greetings, when I get home from work, are high fives and fist bumps. But when it is bed time he comes and gives me a big hug.

    I still get the kisses on occasion, but like I said, I know that time is drawing nigh when they disappear. From an ASD kid, you take what you can get.

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