Thursday, July 21, 2011

July 21, 2011

Me:  So how was the parade today, Imogen?

Imogen:  It was okay.  But the Autism Parade was better.

Me:  The Autism Parade?  What's that?

Imogen, with a sigh:  Mum.  It's the parade I was in with my bicycle.

Me:  Do you mean the Cycle for Autism?

Imogen:  No.  I know what that is.  And I won a prize there.  That was a race, not a parade.  I mean the Autism Parade where I rode my bike and Jen and Liam and Julius were with me and there were rainbows and people waved at me.

Me:  Oh, you mean the Pride Parade!

Imogen:  No, I mean the Autism Parade.

Me:  Why do you think that parade was called the Autism Parade?

Imogen:  Because it was about being special and about love.  And that's what autism is about, Mum.

I can't argue with logic like that.  The Autism Parade it is.  Full of autists and queers.  Some of us both.

Friday, July 15, 2011

July 15, 2011

Seven of us are eating dinner.  Imogen is keeping everyone amused with her longtime, ongoing narrative about how Jen is her biological mother and the mother she likes best.  We are all giggling lots at her stories.

Imogen:  Am I being silly?

Me: Yeah, maybe a little bit.

Imogen:  Silly like a clown?

Me:  Um, sure, maybe a little silly like a clown.

Imogen:  Or silly like a beetle lying on its back on the top of a mountain?

You know, that near-iconic image of silly that springs to mind at the mention of the word.  Uh huh.