The norm, for the past 8 years, was to just mention Halloween to Brenda and suddenly our world was all aflutter. Decorations went up just days after the new school year began. Different costumes were brought to school nearly every day of October. Conversations all revolved around candy, pumpkins, parties... You get it.
Something has happened to Brenda.
I blame Katy Perry.
I fully acknowledge that childish-Halloween ended, for me, after I was twelve, as it does with many kids. BUT. This wasn't supposed to happen to my kid. Hey! What's autism for, if not to let me enjoy my kids' youth a little longer than normal???
She hasn't even glanced at the decorations that Suzie and I put up. She shrugged and mentioned she'd wear the costume she used at girls camp, when asked. When bringing up her birthday, she just lets me know what she wants from the store. No talk of her annual Halloween/birthday party that she's obsessed over for nearly a decade...
Nope, she just wants to play video games and listen to her "girl pop".
I feel helplessly robbed.
So to lash back, in justified, parental vengeance, I'm going to expose Brenda for the child she is.
Last month, I took Brenda, Suzie and two cousins to the movies to see Finding Dory. I was parked right outside the small theater as they came out and could see that Brenda was struggling to compose herself. The (spoiler alert) happy ending had completely brought Brenda to sobbing, gasping, tipsy tears. She declared it her favorite movie that she would never watch again. ...Now she's asking for the dvd for her birthday...
|getting in the car post-movie|
How does this expose her as a child? Um. I guess I'd have to call myself a child after sobbing at the end of North and South (the one based on the book by Elizabeth Gaskell, not the war movie). But my movie is adult. It has adult stuff like history and death and philosophy and politics and relationships... and I sobbed in the privacy of my dark bedroom. And and and.. And Dory is silly and cartoon. ...nevermind the family and love and courage... Oh, and I cry at the end of Wreck it Ralph.
I feel my argument crumbling.
My kid is growing up.