L. started extended summer school on Tuesday. I was glad. He gets so bored at home, and a half day of stimulation does him good. Anyway, that morning I made sure he had taken his medication, had breakfast, and his back pack was out. The thing I did not bank on was that he would decide he wanted it to be Halloween. He came downstairs in his caveman costume that I had sewn for him several years ago. A costume, I might add, that he refuse to wear that year. In the mean time he has discovered The Flintstones, and he thinks the caveman costume looks like Fred.
He has the costume on and he says, "Wilma I'm home!" and it sounds just like Fred, I tell you.
Not that I care too much what other people think. At this point I'm beyond redemption, if you know what I mean. So I said to him that we should take the costume off, but he didn't want to.
He told me it was Halloween. I tried to explain that Halloween does not come in July. He continued to believe that it was Halloween. I figured no amount of insisting was going to change his mind, and envisioning the tantrum that would ensue, decided not to push it. When the bus arrived, my little Fred Flintstone climbed on, as happy as a clam and sat down in the seat next to the window, smiling from ear to ear as they pulled away. I can't help but marvel at how simple a thing as a caveman costume can put him on cloud nine. His innocents and joy in living always leaves me in awe.