Iím sitting at my lap-top in the conservatory. The spring sunshine is bright and Iím squinting at the screen. Yes, I could move to somewhere more comfortable. After all, lap-tops are designed to be mobile arenít they? But for today, I have to work here as I have an appointment to keep.
Iím afraid Iíve been rather lax this week. I put it down to the chesty cold Iíve had. Iím usually a very reliable and punctual person and would never let anyone down without good cause. However, my visitor has passed by several times this week, and not once have I been smart enough to catch him.
Today will be different. Iím feeling better now and Iím up, showered and dressed with camera at the ready. Thereís two replacement batteries on the coffee table; heaven forbid that he sits there posing for me in the middle of the lawn, and click.... nothing happens.
The tension in the house is mounting now. I canít bluff my way through this much longer. The reckoning will be here soon, and oh - will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut!
I mean itís not that I havenít had enough practice over the years is it? I donít have to think ahead as though planning a wedding banquet.
It just comes naturally, to all of us - like breathing. Itís how we are; itís who we are. Itís who we became when we stopped being whoever we used to be. But that was such a long time ago that it might never have been that way at all.
Well back to my appointment, and now the ballís in his court. He hasnít showed up yet, but isnít that typical of what happens when youíre planning something important? Even the most carefully laid plans can go pear shaped!
I wonder what heís thinking with his rat brain as he scurries over my lawn in broad daylight. Does he glance furtively at me wondering why I donít squeal and jump on the table? Isnít that what girls do? Or perhaps I throw him into a tailspin of confusion by dotting his path with little delicacies of stale pork pie and mouldy cheeses. If heís smart, heíll be looking for the trap!
But there isnít a trap, at least not for him. Iím the one whoís trapped.
ďVermin,Ē my neighbour calls them. ďFilthy, disgusting vermin that live in sewers and eat pooh!Ē
Well, as I canít argue against such well documented facts, I ask her to be reasonable, and explain that just the one picture is all I need to bring some sense of normality back to my life.
And then she can call in the pest controllers, put her house on the market, or whatever else it takes to pacify her. I really donít understand her anymore!
ďThat young man needs discipline!Ē she tells me. ďItís ridiculous at his age the things he has you doing.Ē
ďBut heís harmless,Ē I say. ďHe doesnít mug old ladies or snort coke. Itís just an obsession of his, and you know how upset he becomes when things donít go according to plan.Ē
She just doesnít get it! She tells me he looks normal, and I tell her that thatís half the problem.
ďAnd whatís more,Ē I point out to her, ďHe IS normal!Ē Albeit with a few variations on the theme!
Oh! Here he comes. Quick ....click....got him! Thank goodness for that. And just in time for Ben to come in from the centre.
ďGet him Mum? shrieks Ben as he bursts through the kitchen door sending the cat into frenzy mode. I mustnít tease. This is serious stuff to my son who wouldnít understand the humour anyway.
ďGot him.Ē I affirm.
ďWhat time did he come? Where did he go next? How long was his tale? Will he come again?Ē
All must be told before Ben begins the task of copying every last detail, meticulously into his log book. Sigh!!!
Thank you Lord, for making every person in your creation unique. Life would be dull without such rich diversity.
And by the way Lord, could I have a side order of ĎFruit of the spirití again tomorrow, with an extra large helping of patience please.
Youíve given me your special, autistic child to love forever, and I trust in your promise that youíll give me enough grace each day to cope.
Thank you Lord. Now if youíll excuse me, I have a picture to upload!
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