The Cougar Convention

Dang it. I found out that I missed the Cougar Convention! At least I caught the waves this past weekend, and now they are saying it, that it may just happen again, this very weekend. Whaaaa? I must be living right! Let's do a review and see...

On Sunday, Mr. Ed, the old guy that has a sandwich named after him at the cafe where I work, came in to order again. He hasn't been ordering his sandwich lately, the one named after him. He must have grown tired of that dry turkey on lightly, I emphasize lightly, lay-it-on-the-grill-for-a-nanosecond, toasted bread with just a spritz of mayo. He has been getting a banana and peanut butter sandwich, instead. This led Karen and I to some speculation. Was he realizing that, at his age, he doesn't have many minutes left, and he better start eating healthy to gain some time? Is he just bored with the same old thing?

We don't care as much as we used to, after we found out he ditched his wife once she got cancer and went away to a nursing home.

We watch him with his new girlfriend, who looks not a day over 90, and wonder how they managed to both make it there to the cafe. He goes in the wrong door some days. He forgets to pay but, if I'm working, I get his money up front. I wasn't in retail for 23 years for nothing.

So, he came in Sunday. He throws us a dang curve ball by ordering the Mr. Ed. I get his money, and he sits down. I take him his sandwich, and I walk back to the counter. A few minutes pass, and here he comes, carrying that Mr. Ed back to us. Karen looks at him, bewildered. "I want a peanut butter and banana sandwich," he says. "But, you ordered a Mr. Ed!" Karen says. "I know," he says, "Wrap this up, and make me another. I forgot my teeth."

We did as we were told, and didn't even laugh out loud, so that gets some karma points, right? And, let's see... I have been working with my three autistic boys this week, who are teaching me more than I have ever learned in a lifetime. One says, "Hi, Mary!" whenever I come into his room, and one can't even add 2+2. The other can't sit still. They just stare out the window, most times, at the leaves, or something, I'm not sure. I ask, but they don't say a word. But, I watch them for cues, and try to see the world through their eyes. I never had to do anything like this before. I have learned to slow down, to be calm around them. Loud noises really bother them. I was the one who thought about them when I learned we were having a fire drill yesterday. It was the first thing I thought about. The teachers were so glad I had thought about that. It seems no one else had.

I am learning. They are teaching me. Sometimes they will look me in the eye. That's a big deal with autistic kids, if you didn't know. I don't take it lightly. It is my reward for just being there with them. That is what autism teaches you. Just be.