Who’s Going to Rip Off the Band Aide

I was asked recently, by my dear friend Brenda, how the toilet paper situation was going in our new home.  I realized I hadn’t shared or toilet paper story on my blog.  This was my Autism Awareness Day post a couple of years ago, so to some this may sound familiar.    

Who’s going to rip off the Band Aide?”

Tucked in the bathroom corner sits a small trashcan filled to the brim with a mountain of clean, white, downy toilet paper torn and rolled into small round balls with the finest perfection, a likeness to a bucket of popcorn.  A sight quite common in our home.  Our son, enjoys filling, rotating and replacing drinks, soap, food, paper products and many more items throughout the house.  His sharp eye has earned him the role of our very own inventory control specialist. These helpful jobs around the house have escalated into a slight problem.  Why wait until all the cereal, bread, or juice is gone, when you can move the process along faster?  When no one is looking, simply put it in a bowl or glass, let it sit on the dresser to be thrown away later in the day.  Many mornings I have been surprised with perfectly cracked eggs ready to cook, cereal with a spoonful of sugar, milk and spoon ready to eat, and yes, that trashcan with a mound of ultra-soft balls.  My husband and I share one of many private giggles.  He is being helpful.  Although his obsessive compulsive behavior is taking over and he is throwing away a lot of good household items!  This is what our life of autism looks like, at least a small slice. 

The time had come to address the mounds of toilet paper that were being thrown away.  Deep breath, how should we do it?  Disciplining or even mentioning any correction generally does not go well.  Our kind, happy, fun-loving son can be thrust into a combination of yelling, screaming, crying, rocking and jumping.  His sadness and rage many times continues well into the night and even for the next few days.  Neither of us want to mention it, but the time has come.  The game we have played for years begins, “Who is going to rip off the Band Aide!” 

Greg jumped right in and to give it a try.  He explained, in his calm and thoughtful voice, “Now Ross, do you know that this costs a lot of money?  Let’s not throw away anymore toilet paper, so we can buy other things.”  Although the delivery was as gentle as could be, Ross did not take the news very well.  The meltdown began, but only lasted for a little over an hour.  We counted it as a win.  However, we both knew this would not be the last toilet paper discussion.

A few days later those familiar quilted white balls appeared again.  I decided a friendly note taped to the wall over the trashcan would be a nice reminder.  “Please do not throw away the toilet paper.”  As I brought the new sign to his attention, he gave me a small tight-lipped smile, then read it out loud.  For now, he thought it was great.  He began giggling, rolling his hands together, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet, inserting a random squeal here and there.  He recited the new sign a few times, adding his own confirmation “No, throw the toilet paper away, no?”  Shaking his head a bit “No. No. No.” trailing off into a whisper.  

A few days later, I opened the bathroom door to see Ross sitting comfortably cross-legged on the floor meticulously rolling little white balls between his palms.  My heart sank.  I caught him red handed and I couldn’t just walk away.  I took a deep breath knowing that I was just about to rip off a big band aide, and it wasn’t going to be pretty. “Ross, what does that sign say?” 

With a calm and clear voice he reads, “Please do not throw away the toilet paper.” 

“What are those?” as I pointed to the trash, attempting to be firm, but not angry.

He looked up at me with those big blue eyes and with a slight smile said, “Kleenex.” 

Acknowledging his honesty with a slight nod of my head, I quickly left the room to share a moment of laughter with Greg.  As hard as I tried, the note that I left was not precise enough and he took advantage of it!  Our son is a clever one! 

Many months later we still have those little white balls appearing in the trash can, although it is not to the degree that it was.  There are days I can mention them and many days I just can’t, knowing that the repercussion could be intense.  There are ever changing rules as we continue to understand and adapt to our son’s autism.  He challenges us every day to be the parents he needs us to be.

I look at this now slightly tattered bathroom sign every day and smile, all the while knowing that right around the corner that infamous band aide will be ripped off once again.

Arizona update: 

Yes, we still have a slight problem, and we think that maybe it’s not quite as bad.  But then again, Greg and I both think that he is becoming a master at hiding things.  All three of us are continuing to adjust to our big move, so for now, we are letting him get by with a little TP disposal….after all it could be something else.

 “Greg, have you noticed we are buying a lot of hand soap?”