Boo’s homework.

New teacher. New expectations. New person to train in all things Boo.

Our first hurdle. Homework.

Boo has another diagnosis of Hyperlexia. Basically he could read before he could speak. And he can read any word. AND spell it. He had the kids at Too’s birthday party in shock, when at 2, he spelt Nickelodeon backwards on the wall. And he has memorised Pi to the 30th power or somesuch.

And knows the periodic table. And of course every single freaking font. His IQ is off the scales.

But he can’t wipe his own arse. Or hold a conversation. Or dress himself. So the asshats in control deign that my boy cannot attend the local specialist school. So I have this fight with every new teacher until I break them in.

But I digress.

Boo has homework. We give a passing attempt at readers. They don’t have anything in his year level that will hold his interest, and of course he isn’t allowed to go higher. So we have a look at the book and then toss it back in his bag.

But this homework was different. It was the ol’ ‘decorate a box and fill it full of things about you’ deal.

Fuck.

Boo wanted to fill it full of cereal. Or soup.

We spent the day in fits and starts getting this freaking homework assignment done.

Found a shoebox. He refused to decorate it.

The assignment said ‘decorate the box’

He drew an X on it. Good enough.

Break time. Break consisted of him strapping on a studded bracelet and necklace, sitting in front of Photobooth on my MacBook and playing Slow Ride with the Guitar Hero guitar.

An hour later we had a discussion on what he likes. He insisted soup. I insisted no.

We settled on coloured pencils. Cause he loves to draw.

Back to jammin’ in front of the computer.

While I was peeling the potatoes he decided he was ready again.

A Mr Men toy from McDonalds or something, a Shrek the third voice changer and a tissue.

Discussed the merits of including a tissue seeing he doesn’t use them. So he ate it.

Back to recording some bad assed riffs.

Stripped off his clothes, wrapped in a blanket in 30C heat he is back at the table.

Last items decided on. A computer mouse, cause he is computer mad. And a Spongebob Squarepants toy.

Cause he loves him some Spongebob.

So now for the next part of the assignment. What it is. Where did you get it. Why did you pick it. And a special memory of whatever. Yeah, worded much better by the teacher but it was all yada yada yada to me by then.

I just wanted a bottle of wine to dull the pain. Glass optional.

So we got the paper. He picked a pencil. We sat down to get this the fuck over with work.

Firstly Sponge Bob.

‘What is it Boo?’

‘Spongebob. Where did you get it?’

‘You got it as a present when you went to hospital to have your teeth fixed’

Shit. WHY did I pick Spongebob? Why didn’t I let him put freaking soup in there? The hospital visit is when he was given a general anesthethic to have 4 lots of root canal, a filling and a tooth out. Ever since we have had to avoid stairs and lifts because he is terrified of them. Shit. Shit. Shit.

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