Jokes and humour are often lost on people with Autism and Aspergers as they cannot always understand what is funny about what is being said. My son reminds me a bit of Data from Star Trek when it comes to jokes.
He came home from school and said he had read a joke in his book, but he didn't understand it.
"Doctor Doctor, I feel like a pack of cards".
"I'll deal with you later".
Once I explained the joke to him, he couldn't stop laughing. He kept telling the joke over and over again. He now keeps making his own jokes, which are sometimes so bad, they are actually funny.
He has a little formula for inventing jokes, which usually involves changing a letter in a word. Here are some of his favourites, that he made up himself:
What do you call Simon Cowell if he is angry?
Simon Growl.
What do you call Simon Cowell if he was something that you dry your hands on in the swimming baths?
Simon Towel.
What do you call a horse that likes Star Wars?
A Force.
Tuesday, 28 May 2013
Friday, 3 May 2013
Embarrassing Moments!
My son was on top form yesterday.
I had to pop to the local shop and I took him with me. He was pushing the trolley (rather erratically round the shop) and I was putting the things in. I realised that I needed to stock up on sanitary towels, but didn't really want him to notice me putting them in the trolley, so I sent him off for something and sneaked them in.
Anyway, we got to the till and I started loading everything up out of the trolley. He then spotted them.
"MOM?" he shouted, in front of everyone.
"What is that blue packet? What is in there?"
"Go and put the trolley back." I said, ignoring him and hoping that by the time he got back, I would have squirrelled them away in a carrier bag.
I grabbed the towels and shoved them in the bag, just as he got back, hoping his trip would have erased his memory.
It hadn't. He grabbed the bag and made a grab for the towels.
"Them. Mom? What are they? What's in the blue packet?"
By this time, there was a queue and everyone was staring. I gave him a coin to put in the charity box.
He went to the charity box and carried on shouting, asking what the packet was in the bag.
"I'll tell you when I get home." I whispered under my breath.
Thankfully, I distracted him enough on the way back to make him forget about the blue packet...
We then had to go to my big son's school, because he had lost his blazer and needed to go to lost property. At the lost property office, a rather butch looking lady (presumably a PE teacher), tried to help us with our enquiry.
As we walked out of the building, my son yelled:
"Was that a man or a woman? I couldn't tell!"
She must have heard. I was mortified.
I got him home as quickly as I could and suffice to say we didn't go out again after that!
I had to pop to the local shop and I took him with me. He was pushing the trolley (rather erratically round the shop) and I was putting the things in. I realised that I needed to stock up on sanitary towels, but didn't really want him to notice me putting them in the trolley, so I sent him off for something and sneaked them in.
Anyway, we got to the till and I started loading everything up out of the trolley. He then spotted them.
"MOM?" he shouted, in front of everyone.
"What is that blue packet? What is in there?"
"Go and put the trolley back." I said, ignoring him and hoping that by the time he got back, I would have squirrelled them away in a carrier bag.
I grabbed the towels and shoved them in the bag, just as he got back, hoping his trip would have erased his memory.
It hadn't. He grabbed the bag and made a grab for the towels.
"Them. Mom? What are they? What's in the blue packet?"
By this time, there was a queue and everyone was staring. I gave him a coin to put in the charity box.
He went to the charity box and carried on shouting, asking what the packet was in the bag.
"I'll tell you when I get home." I whispered under my breath.
Thankfully, I distracted him enough on the way back to make him forget about the blue packet...
We then had to go to my big son's school, because he had lost his blazer and needed to go to lost property. At the lost property office, a rather butch looking lady (presumably a PE teacher), tried to help us with our enquiry.
As we walked out of the building, my son yelled:
"Was that a man or a woman? I couldn't tell!"
She must have heard. I was mortified.
I got him home as quickly as I could and suffice to say we didn't go out again after that!
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