In looking thru my past posts, I realize that Buddy Boy and autism are the subject matter for the majority of my posts. Since autism is but a portion of our lives, I thought I might share a little story of something that happened with Sweet Pea yesterday.
Out of the blue, Sweet Pea asked Liz who picked out the stones (headstones) when you were buried. Now no one's died recently, and I don't think she's watched something about people dying lately (I don't think they kill off characters on the Cartoon Network). So I don't know where this came from. So Liz responded with our usual "Why do you ask?", to which Sweet Pea responded that she wanted to know whether you picked out your own or someone else picked it out for you.
Liz responded something to the effect that a person might make arrangements ahead of time to pick one out, but often the person's family picked out the stone for them.
"Well I'm picking mine out right now. I want a Princess stone."
I wonder if I should tell her that they can make headstones from pink granite?
Me- Joe, husband of a great wife, and dad to two great kids, who were both adopted at birth.
Liz- My ever understanding wife, who manages to wear many hats (mom, advocate, therapist, teacher) for our kids.
Buddy Boy- Born in 2000. Funny, intelligent, inventive, and autistic. Loves machines.
Sweet Pea- Born in 2002. Typical little sister. Competitive, outgoing, and smart. Loves anything pink.