Jack has discovered speed limits.
We have been spending a LOT of time together in the car. See, his Camp Awesome is a solid half hour away from my house. Each way. That means I’m in the car for two hours a day driving him to and from camp. Half of that time Jack is with me.
Lets not even talk about how much of that time Sam and Quinn are with me.
Anywho, Jack has taken to reading speed limit signs and then peering carefully over to the speedometer (which I was dumb enough to show him) to see how fast I’m going.
“Speed limit forty,” he’ll say as he purses his lips and cranes his neck to see the dashboard.
“I’m going 41,” I will say.
“The speed limit is forty,” he will respond. “Forty.”
It’s always the same. If I am going at or below the speed limit, he will let his raised eyebrows relax and return to his upright position. If I am going over the speed limit, no matter what it is, he will reprimand me with a quiet but stern script: “The speed limit is thirty. Thirty.“
It is at once adorable and annoying as hell.
Water Week is sloshing along. We’ve done a lot of swimming this week. Well, *I* haven’t, but other members of my family have. Today we painted and did some experiments with water, spoons, glasses and food coloring. All kinds of fun.
I was thinking about having a Camp Stimey meet up tomorrow, but it is Alex’s last day off before he finishes his old job and starts his new job, so we’re going to do something family style. But without Jack (not because we are excluding him on purpose, but because of Camp Awesome). Also, we’re going to go to a local pet store and watch them feed their sharks tomorrow night. We’re taking Jack for that.
And I’m pretty sure we’ll be driving the speed limit to get there.
If you are so inclined, you are welcome to hop on over to Autism Unexpected to check out my thoughts on what to say to parents of kids with autism. (Hint: It’s not, “The speed limit is thirty-five. Thirty-five.“)