9-1-1 Emergency
Over the weekend, something happened that will be going in my son’s scrapbook, right next to a picture of him talking on the telephone.
If you don’t know Adam well, the first thing you need to know is that when he grows up, he will be Mr. Monk. Autism produces some hilarious behaviors in Adam. He is compelled in the strongest way you can imagine to push buttons that make sounds (sometimes I think he’s trying to compose a symphony on the telephone touch pad because he’s also very musical:)), and he is literally obsessed with numbers. Throw those things in with emerging language and social skills, and you have a kid who cannot stay away from the telephone.
Lately, I can’t talk on the telephone without Adam on the extension breaking in to say, “Hello! How are you?” I have to race him to make it to the downstairs phone first when it rings. Up until this past Saturday, I was mostly just happy that Adam is interested in using the telephone and understands that he’s supposed to have a conversation with someone on the other end. That he wants to do this and tries to do this is very exciting with regard to reaching developmental milestones.
I had to put a sign on the phone for him that says, Adam, no pushing buttons. As long as I’m downstairs with him, he obeys the sign, but the moment I go upstairs to fold laundry or take my shower, he gives in to whatever compels him to push those buttons.
Saturday, while Kevin was having some time to himself and I had the kids (we switch off–it’s wonderful), I was upstairs folding clothes when I heard the phone ring. I figured I’d better pick up quickly or Adam would have a short conversation with whoever was on the phone and hang up before I could get there. When I picked up, the lady on the other end said, “This is 911.”
“HUH?”
“This is 911. Do you need help? Someone at that number keeps dialing us and hanging up.”
I could just imagine Adam’s delight the first time he tried that combination and heard a voice on the other end say, “9-1-1 Emergency.” He tried again, and when they repeated exactly the same thing in a chirpy voice, he was set to go for hours enjoying the repetition and the NUMBERS, and listening carefully for any variation in result (my little mad scientist).
I was so tired that morning that I just unplugged the downstairs phone. Now I have to figure out how to teach Adam when to dial 911, and let me tell you, “emergency” is not an easy word to teach an autistic child. You have to be very specific. If you say “we only call this when we need help,” my two ultra-literalists will call when they have broken a toy or need help tying their shoes. For now, my downstairs telephone remains unplugged until I come up with a creative way to detour our newest “grand obsession.”:)
