The One Where Boy#1 Wasn't Really Bloody and Howled Down the Street

"Ah, the suburbs. Fostering the illusion of success since 1950." ~Daffy Duck, The Looney Toons Show

Do I ever hate it when our crazy escapes the house without my knowledge. 

Boy#1 had an "episode" early in the afternoon. There have been some change in routine, and, shockingly! - he's not adjusting so well. He will adjust, it will just take time. I don't know if he's just sad or unsure of how to express how he feels. 

We have a group of kids that come over to play with Boy#1 and Boy#2. To be honest, they come over to play our electronics. Boy#1 does not like to play video games. It is his one of his many forms of rebellion against the norm. (yes, i know. not only is he naturally different (hahahahahahahaha), he finds extra ways to be different to express "fuck you society who thinks I'm not part of you anyway".)  The boy his age in this group of kids is pretty nice and tolerant of Boy#1's quirks - a total Eddie Haskell. I'm not stupid, but I also don't let them play unsupervised.

Then, there's Boy#1's friend from down the street. He's pretty quirky and shows up in costumes and likes to make movies is probably glad to have Boy#1 to just be himself around. But, he is not home very much. The other day, someone knocked on the door and by the time I opened it, nobody was there. Then, I heard a voice say, "Go ahead. Ask me who I am. I dare you!" So, I said, "Who are you?" This boy falls out of our bushes in full old fashioned gangster gear stammering he thought Boy#1 would open the door. I told him to hide and do it again.

Yesterday, Boy#1 left to go see him. I didn't realize he was gone until he came back in crying, but unable to speak. Finally, I got it out of him that he had knocked over our neighbor's bird bath. (I'm really good. Scary good at figuring out what the hell he's talking (groaning) about.) So, I read him the riot act about not leaving the house without my permission and especially when he's having trouble! It was not an effective speech because he left again while I was on the phone in my room with a drug company.

It took me about 4 minutes to realize he had left again.

So, I'm going down the street towards his friend's house and I see two women trying to corral Boy#1 and "help" him. He was running in a circle moaning hysterically and his pants were sort of falling off. One lady was on the phone. With 911. I mean, they had no idea what was wrong with him and he was howling and he kept trying to get away to go down the alley. They also said he had blood pouring from his mouth. Oh, jeez. It was chocolate.

The police came and the paramedics. They were so nice. Didn't make me feel stupid for having pajamas with cats all over them on and a son with chocolate streaming down his face (also lying on the grass howling). They just let us get up and walk home with dignity. 

Dignity means different things to different people. For serious.