But I Thought…

I’ve spent a lot of time sighing lately.

My Aspie hubby has been doing too much thinking. His mind is usually going a hundred million miles per hour and he tends to either over think things, complicate things, or just plain imagine things.

Take a ‘for instance’ instance. Though the exact facts have been altered for the purpose of this illustration, the basic scenario is true to form.

“Sweetie! I’m stuck!! I took kidlet to his buddy's and the car quit in the middle of the intersection on the way home!” I yelled into my phone. I am rather excitable.

Granted, I was panicked as I couldn’t get my car pushed completely off the road and Steve wasn’t answering his phone. I had texted and called a dozen times. Still no answer. I had tried to flag someone down to help with no luck.

Twiddling my thumbs, I sat back to contemplate my next move. Gazing sightlessly through the windshield, thoughts tumbling around in my mind, I suddenly came to the realization that my eyes had focused on a pair of bright backup lights. Then I recognized that they belong to my hubby’s rig. Hallelujah.

I jump out of the car to enthusiastically thank him for the rescue. I am very, very appreciative. As he opens his door and walks to the back of his vehicle, I try to hug and kiss him, but he is having none of it. At that point I realize he is stomping, which is his body language for “I’m mad”.

“Sweetie, really, truly, thank you!” I try to explain, but my words are falling on deaf ears.

Instead, Sweetie grabs a huge canvas tarp and starts tying it’s corners to the undercarriages of both our cars.

I am startled. “Steve! What in the world are you doing?”

No answer.

“Sweetheart, are you going to use a canvas sheet to tow with? Seriously?” I am astounded.

Still not a word from my irate, but esteemed, spouse.

He jumps back into his car and guns the engine. I take a flying leap into mine and am just able to slide the tranny into neutral as my Sweetie’s rig tugs at my rig. My door is still open so I quickly slam it shut.

A second later I hear a thundering “riiiiiip” and I, in my barely rolling vehicle, come to an absolute and complete halt. I watch Steve’s tail lights vanish in the distance.

At least I am out of the intersection.

I debate on calling him again. I fidget as I try to calculate how far he will drive before noticing that I’m no longer behind him. I try my darnedest to figure out where in the world he came up with the idea that a canvas sheet was a good substitute for a tow strap. I know from experience that he probably was in the middle of a TV show or some project and,  due to the urgency of my messages, was in such a hurry that he didn't give himself time to find an actual tow strap or chain. I give up on all of the mind boggling possibilities and tip my seat back to take a nap.

Granted, this exact event is fictitious, but it aptly illustrates the many odd ideas that Steve is convinced are real, and that would, could, or will work. Try as I might, I can’t convince him otherwise. His Aspie reasoning cements those ideas in his mind to the point that he can’t tell the difference between what is real and what isn’t. He seems to believe that if he has the ‘thought’ in his head, then it must be true. 

He does now have four approved, registered patents on composite layering materials and/or techniques that prove he can think outside the box.

Meanwhile, I thoroughly enjoy my naps. Laugh out loud.