Autism Street

A little before bedtime this evening, our youngest informed us that he could in fact fly.

Wow. This is huge.

Just this past week, I really felt the frustration of the annual return of the snowbirds to Phoenix. It didn’t seem to matter that I got up and left for work a little earlier each morning, the freeway traffic just got worse and worse each day, regardless of what time I left. The damn freeway cameras sure don’t seem to help, but there’s little doubt this is probably a simple effect of many more cars carrying gray-haired citizens being out and about in the area I live in - going to doctor appointments, or gunning to be first in line at the DMV (so working folks can experience maximum wait times).

This shouldn’t be a problem any more. I’ll simply have my 5 year-old fly me to work in the mornings and pick me up in the evenings from here on out. Actually, this will work out great, since I go to work well before school starts, and don’t finish until he’s out of school. I imagine he must have to fly pretty fast, since he doesn’t appear have much wing surface area.

Damn, he’s eco-friendly too, needing nothing more than generic Cinnamon Toast Crunch for fuel! I probably won’t even bother to get in the car to run to the store anymore. With a little careful training, and a prepaid debit card, I could just have him step out the front door and leap into the sky in the direction of the grocery store.

Perhaps I’m being kind of selfish about this though. Maybe I should start an online support group for parents who want their children to fly too. I’ll bet there’s even a market for an annual conference, as there’s plenty to discuss (flight training programs, flight support diets, and treatments for the flight-impaired children of the world). And I’ve always thought the makers of capes and the authors of various “flying children” books should have a place to display their products.

This is gonna be so cool.

I could hardly wait to start working on how he might really fly with me in-tow, so I thought I should put first things first, and see just exactly how he does fly. I asked him to show me. His response, although absolutely serious, concealed a bit of a smile.

“I can’t fly when other people can see me.”

I know this isn’t true.

Underneath that shy, shell-of-a-boy whose flight is impaired in the presence of others, is a little kindergartener who can and should fly. Although it may be tempting to think so, this isn’t some kind of metaphor - I’m going to do everything I can to make sure he really does learn to fly when others can see him. I don’t really care if he flaps his arms like a hummingbird, or levitates and shoots off like Superman, I’ll take either, as long has he can make it to my office and back. Time is of the essence. He’s young and strong now, and I don’t want regret not having tried everything possible to help him achieve his flying potential and solve my moring commute headaches.