Surviving Blackout

May 28, 2015

Robert and I study almost every day although not as much as we used to. Moreover, we do tasks that I believe to be easy for Robert. Although this belief is not always confirmed by the reality, still it is mostly correct. Today, for instance, Robert with a few prompts talked about next “Situation” presented as a picture in “Meer Pictures for Problem Solving”. The drawing presented a family in the dark living room during blackout. TV doesn’t work, the book cannot be read, the father carries a candle, and almost every person in the picture seems to be concerned one way or another.

Robert has always hated when electricity went off. When that happened in the past when the whole family was home, it wasn’t so bad. We all gathered in one room drinking hot cocoa and talking.  Well, Robert mostly listened. Being close to each other was a way to make up for lack of TV or light. It was much more difficult  when  Amanda was in Oregon and dad was in California.  I wasn’t able to provide appropriate level of comfort for Robert just with a few candles and a flashlight. Robert was very upset and demanded that I restore electricity immediately. He kept pulling and pushing me toward fuse box in the garage.  Unfortunately, the problem was not there.  The half of the town was dark and the prognosis was for a few hours without light.  During the first part of those “few” hours Robert asked thousand times, “Light, light, light” He asked calmly and he asked angrily.  He used dramatic high pitch.  He screamed, “Light, light, light!!!!!”. He begged, “Light, light, light?” he wanted light, and he blamed me for not providing light for him.

I decided to take him to McDonald in the other part of town.  Robert couldn’t refuse a chance to eat fries and chicken nuggets, but he was not giving up on light. Between each two fries or two sips of coke, Robert voiced his demand loud and clear, “Light, light, light”, over and over, and over.

To calm him down and to keep him quiet I promised Robert that the light would be back when we get home.  The effect of that (white?) lie was such that Robert gobbled all his fries as quickly as possible placing three or four of them in his mouth and gulped all the soda in a second.  He was ready to go home and make sure the light was where it was supposed  to be.

But of course, it wasn’t.

“Light, light, light”, Robert asked, and screamed, and begged.  I promised that the light would come back after his bath.  So, Robert rushed to the bathroom. After a short bath in lukewarm water in the bathroom lighten by one candle held by me, just as Robert was putting on his pajama, the light returned. All the lamps were on. Robert turned them all off and went to sleep.

I am not sure what memory Robert had of any of the previous blackouts, but he was  looking at the  family in the picture with clear empathy. He clearly knew what they were going through.