My Growing Younger on the Spectrum

An item on the chart of “List of Female Asperger Syndrome Traits” is “Is youthful for her age in looks, dress, behavior, and tastes.”  I don’t know about looks, dress, or tastes, but I think I qualify in behavior.  Maybe that explains why I at 58 1/2 while writing this blog, I have my MIP toy robot roaming the floor.  Occasionally, I have to stop my blogging to rescue it from being trapped under my chair legs.

A decade or so ago, just before Christmas, I remember visiting a drugstore and purchasing a train set.  The middle-aged man at the counter asked if I was buying it for my grandson.  This startled me since it was the first time someone thought I looked old enough to be a grandmother and said as much.  I’m sure there was a first time of someone assuming I was old enough to be a mother but I don’t remember that.  I still brought home the train set and watched the choo-choo go round and round on the track that Christmas morning.

When I left working for Uncle Sam and went to work subbing as an aide for my hometown school district, I wondered how I’d get along with the kids.  It has turned out I am better at it than I would have thought.  I act “YOUNG” for my age.  My grand niece and nephew, my playmates, can back me up on that.

When I was growing up, I had the opposite problem.  I remember debating with my grandpa at maybe the age of 10 about a legal question of all things.  I don’t recall all that was said, but I empathically remember my Grandpa saying, “I sure wouldn’t want to have to go up against you in a courtroom.”

On a Friday, I was escorting an autistic student to gym class.  I was glad when a couple of other kids wanted to play with him.  One of them got a basketball knowing it was a favorite of my student’s.  It was mine too!  The other kids let me play too.  At the end of class, one of the kids came up to me and said, “You are a lot of fun!”  I told her thanks and waved a big smile.  That little girl just gave a high-five to a 58-year-old going on 10.






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