Small Scribbles

"Honey, you've got something boiling on the stove." "Yeah, I know. I'll be right there." Smashed potatoes were on the lunch menu. Mostly for Lauren because she has a thing for carbohydrates. I put down the laundry and waited patiently in front of Stuart. There's a narrow entry way to the kitchen workspace and he was standing in it. He had just finished painting the backsplash and was taking apart the roller for cleaning. I wasn't worried. Stuart is a genius with tools. It took some tugging to get the roller loose and then the thing slipped and went flying. Paint sprayed across the table and the floor and some cupboards and the oven. And me. Look at me, people! This is oil based paint! Here I am in my Saturday work clothes and my Saturday hair but tomorrow is Sunday and I can't go out looking like this. My face is taken care of. But what to do about the hair. A buzz cut is out of the question. Any suggestions or do I need to do my best rendition ...

This story, the one that I am about to tell, first needs a little background. Our John has Asperger's and this makes him quite astonishingly talented at some things and quite astonishingly inept at others. For example, take chores. He hangs the laundry. He loves to hang the laundry, all in stretched out in neat rows. He drops everything when the laundry needs him and I don't have to check if it's done right. He vacuums. He's the best vacuumer in the house. I always feel kind of like I'm watching Monk at work as he chases the dirt out of the corners and makes straight lines across the carpet. He's good. But John is out of his element in the kitchen. There are too many decisions to be made and he can't break down the tasks without a lot of direction. A lot. This is too bad because after each meal it is his job to help Lauren with the dishes. Lauren rinses and sometimes John puts the dishes in the dishwasher. Sometimes he makes engine noises and slides the dirt...