There is no shortage of autistic adventures around here. Most of them involve poop.
Like that moment of panic when you walk into the room and see your kid without any pants on. And he smells really bad. It was almost as bad as that one time…
Or that time with the confusion and unbelief when you begin to change your child’s poopy diaper, but there is no poo in the diaper.
And then there’s that time when you go sniffing through the house to try and figure out where he was playing last.
There are those A-ha! moments when you’re pretty sure you found said missing poo, only to have missing poo confused with small, random, brown dog. That is not code. There was literally a small, brown dog on the floor next to his bed.
Then there was that time when my nose led me to my side of the bed. I was already washing the bed sheets on my bed that morning. Seriously, an entire king size bed, and he sat on my pillow??
The utter confusion of the lingering smell hours after the incident, the empty poopy diaper, and the absence of the poop. Replaying an old Cranberries song in my head.
Never found the missing poop. I guess he’s just saving that for a special day down the road.
Until then, I’ll just keep working on my PhD in Poo.
Smell ya later.