May 2, 2008 by Marj Hatzell
Bugaboo and Bug Boy have your typical (or not so typical) autistic-OCD-perseveration-thingy going on. They both get interested in something and then we EAT, SLEEP AND BREATHE it for months. As in, literally. As in, one month it was foods that aren’t red. Another month all food had to be red (confused? Yeah, us too!). One month we have to concentrate on people who die in ships that sink. Bugaboo tends to keep on with the buses (and other yellow vehicles, but mostly buses) so at least he’s consistent.
For the longest time (Whoa-oh-oh, for the longest time) Bugaboo absolutely loathed animals of any kind. We’d go to the zoo (membership) and he’d look off the other way, watching trees blow in the wind or watching a fountain. Shadow was basically a piece of furniture or a means to climb onto something else. She’d occasionally park herself across the stairs or a doorway to get in his way in order to attempt to stop him from climbing the baby gate or stairs. He’d climb over her as if she were part of the steps. He does like to stim on her long, silky hair but that’s about the extent of it.
Imagine our surprise around the Holidays when he began stealing my elephants. My beloved elephant collection! He broke a few junky ones but was totally obsessed. He’d steal them from the highest hiding places and sit behind the couch to stroke and cuddle them. I couldn’t believe my eyes! He LIKED an animal! Just when I gave up my zoo membership (%@*&%)! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it, but someone suggested I get him some toy plastic (but realistic) animals to play with. And, as if it were magic (POOF!) he stopped touching my elephants and began playing with the $1 plastic ones I found on clearance. I also got him tigers, lions, giraffes, you name it. But he stuck with the elephants.
His interest in the animals waned a bit with the return of warmer weather. Why play with plastic animals when you can throw DIRT! AND WOOD CHIPS! AND PICK GRASS (not the grass! ACK!)! But then rainy days returned and Bugaboo began carrying around a giraffe. Everywhere. As in, we were looking for it so he’d go to bed. He had to have it watch him take a bath. He brought it to the dinner table (not that he sits at the dinner table, but it still came with him). We were amused and perplexed. Perhaps we should revisit the zoo membership? After all, we have an aquarium membership and he LOVES IT.
Then we began finding Mr. Giraffe at the scene of every crime:
Hmmm…I wonder who was throwing the plant dirt. Oh look! A giraffe!
You see, if Bugaboo was anywhere in the house, the giraffe was not far behind. In fact, if we found the giraffe, it means that Bugaboo had JUST BEEN THERE and was either hiding nearby or heard me and took off like a bat out of Hades. Exhibit B:
Gee. Someone was throwing Legos in Bug Boy’s room. Who could it be?
Yeah, he’s all sneaky like that. Nothing like covering your tracks at the scene of a crime. In fact, if it weren’t for that Mr. Giraffe, I’d NEVER BE ABLE TO GUESS who was throwing the legos, right? Moving along:
How about that! A giraffe by the toilet. And there’s toilet water splashed over the freaking place. I wonder who did this?
It’s pretty obvious he’s not to skilled in the “covering my tracks” department. That much is fairly apparent, given the fact that he drops his food about the house, leaving a trail like Hansel and Gretl, while the dog follows closely behind licking up crumbs. Trust me when I say I have found this giraffe in just about every location of my home. He literally has to have it taken from his hands when getting on the bus to school. And you know what that means, right?
Yeah. We lost it last week. Can’t find it anywhere. And he looked, believe me. He brought me that stinking picture of the giraffe about thirty times in one day. So, first thing Monday morning when he went back to school, Mommy hit up every place she could think of that might sell a freaking giraffe. And after six stores she found a grand total of:
One. One freaking giraffe.
Do you mean to tell me that my child is the only one on the planet that LOVES GIRAFFES? I mean, c’mon! It’s a common animal, right? There has to be more than one? And I did find one more, after visiting three tarzhays, and the dang thing was only three inches long. Not gonna work, we need a LARGE GIRAFFE. So I’m asking you, internets, if you see larger dollar store giraffes (as shown above) and you are one of my IRL friends, I’ll pay you good money to buy up those giraffes so that Mommy has a stash in case we misplace Mr. Giraffe again, mmkay? As in, PRETTY PLEASE! PLEASE OH PLEASE OH PLEASE buy me those giraffes? Thank you, Thankyouverymuch.