I bought a small package of M&Ms yesterday at the grocery store – one of those impulse buys you make in line while reading front covers of rag-mags featuring things like Snooki’s latest antics and Kate Gosselin’s hot new bikini body. I never take Jonah with me to the grocery store…haven’t done it since he was a baby. Andy brings him along on occasion, but since he claims he does not physically tie Jonah to the grocery cart, I can only deem this a minor miracle of the same magnitude as my dad taking Jonah along (not once, but twice) to Catholic Mass while the child sat quietly through the whole hour.
I barely believe these stories, but there they are.
At any rate, the stupid little bag of M&Ms has been the bane of our existence ever since. When I got home from the store I put the bag on the counter, not thinking much of it. Jonah’s superior candy radar scoped it out almost immediately, though:
“Skittles?” he asks me, mistaking my bag of M&Ms for the similarly shaped multicolored treats.
“No, these are M&Ms.” I tell him. “And they’re mama’s,” I add rather meanly.
“m m m?” he pleads. He has not been a very good boy this day. He was screaming at school and he hit a teacher, then was a mess at the after school program too. I am barely in the mood to feed him dinner, let alone candy.
Finally I get him to eat something dinner-like (he has been really good lately about eating raw veggies dipped in some kind of dressing) and then I stingily offer him two M&Ms.
“What color are they?” I ask. “s’orange,” he replies as he gobbles them down. Then: “m m m?”
I give him two more, again playing the color game. Then, to avoid any further dilemma about M&M distribution, I tip the small bag and pour the rest into my mouth and down the hatch.
“m m m?” he asks me again. “No more,” I say. “Sorry, boo.” After a while he allows himself to be tempted away with the promise of playing with moneycoin downstairs.
He obviously hadn’t forgotten about it, though. This morning when Jonah woke, he came in our room, climbed into bed, and loudly announced: “m m m!?!”
Next time I buy chocolate I’m hiding that shit.
Not sure if I mentioned it before but my nephew has Aspergers, he is now 27 but when he was younger he used to love staying with us and his five cousins, as he is an only child. Come to that, he still likes to visit.
My lot have always been remarkably patient with him and I well remember the time he held up a train (one of those they have to take you round a zoo) as his dad and the rest of us were not quite ready to get on but he’d arrived first.
He loved (still does) wearing hats so was suitably attired with peaked hat and whistle. We found him, standing on the track barring the way when we arrived at least five minutes later.
The driver was very understanding!
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Thanks for writing. That’s an awesome story – and I’m glad to hear the driver was understanding! 🙂
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