a frog in his pocket

It was an unusually quiet and peaceful drive into town this morning. Jona was sitting so calmly but I was curious about the Calvin-esque smile on his face. He walked with equal calm into his speech therapy session and emerged 45 minutes later with a full-grin and dancing eyes.

I didn't even make it through, "What's up buddy?" before he opened a tupperware in his hands and a frog made it's debut in the waiting room much to the horror of Keona and her little friend. The next few minutes were filled with Jonathan's fabulous laughter, shrieks from the girls and waiting parents, the clinician's concerned, furrowed brow, and my failed attempt to stifle my own cackling. There in that waiting room, Jonathan enjoyed a few minutes of normal, mischievous, 11-year-old boy silliness. He wasn't a boy with Aspergers. He was just a boy.

So some people don't like frogs...they'll recover. But the dear young clinician, evidently Jonathan had waited until they were seated together in the speech therapy room before he pulled the frog out of his pocket and it hopped on her. She caught it and deposited it in the tupperware. I assured her, between dabbing my laughter-induced teary eyes, that he would have a consequence.

"But mommy, it was fun!" "Yes, my love. It was fun and funny. But not everything that's funny is appropriate. Did you think it was obedience or disobedience to stuff that poor frog in your pocket and unleash him on the speech therapist?"

"Disobedience. [Then in a whisper with a far-off look and smile.] But, it sure was fun."

The frog is free. Jonathan won't be on his computer today. And Bear and I have had to go on the porch or leave to a different room several times to keep laughing.

Thank God for frogs and little boys.