Friday, June 7, 2013

Kung Fu Fighting

“Oh yah!” booms my hubby’s voice from the livingroom. Whooping sounds emanate, then a loud “Gettem!” The verbal barrage is now ringing through the house.
I'm folding clothes and listening to a Mariners away game, which was currently a quiet up-to-bat in the bottom of the fourth, runners on the outside corners, one out, and the Yanks were actually down by two, though perhaps not for long.
“What? Did they get a double play?” I asked as I darted around the corner to view the TV screen.
Instead of Kidlet and Steve in front of a ball game, I see a bunch of ninja guys punching and kicking each other, blood and body parts flying high and low in the sea of whirling black clothed tornadoes.
Kidlet was nowhere to be seen.
Oh Lordy, its Chuck Norris film fest day. Looks like this Saturday will not be fruitful in the home maintenance department.
I trudge back to my radio and the pile laundry begging to be put away.
Well, perhaps not exactly begging.
My husband doesn’t care for baseball, or any sports for that matter, though he will try to suffer in silence when our Kidlets play.
He does prefers to be alone, to do his own ‘thing’ and pursue his own interests. He struggles with coordination and physical activities, and is generally anti-social, neither traits conducive to sports.
I often go back to the basics, reminding myself that there is no purposeful intent on his part to remain aloof from our family, just truisms of Aspergers.
While I do have to tiptoe around him at times, I’ve learned that if I bring up in advance the specific task or chore that I need help with, then name a specific time that I would like his help, Steve will help. It's best to ask him a few days ahead, giving him time to think about it. 
But not always.
On this day I had specifically asked what his plans were for the day. He said that he had none.
Unfortunately I did not realize that today was the day of the 8th Degree Black Belt Grand Master.
Shame on me.
Perhaps I should go down to the local sports bar so I can finish watching the game and talk baseball. Maybe even find a handyman looking for work. You never know.
I do know that you will never find me in front of a Chuck Norris film, lol.

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