The ON/OFF switch

He's always on.  I don't know about other kids, or other Aspie's for that matter, but mine's always in the ON mode.  He wakes up, comes into our bed, clambers all over us, plunks down and starts talking.  And talking.  Here's what we were told this morning:

"Did you know that in Farm Frenzy, if you buy an ostrich and don't use the feathers to make dresses you loose $1,000 per ostrich?  Why would someone do that?  Do you know that if you sell the ostrich before you sell 100 dresses or make 1,500 fans you loose money?  Yup, it's true.  That's how it works. That would be wasting money if you sold your ostrich before then." 

The whole time his little arm is waving like he's commanding a symphony and his little head is cocked off to the side, already thinking of his next sentence.  I know this because I had Lasix and now I can see everything...

And so it goes.  We're up.  It's 6:25 in the morning. 

Have I mentioned that Farm Frenzy is his new thing?  Well it is and I can tell you all about it.  I won't but I could.  If I were really mean I would tell Alex to tell you.  You'd be stuck for at least 45 minutes.  God help you if the computer was near by, you'd be in for a demo.  And that, my friends, lasts much longer than 45 minutes.

You guessed it, Farm Frenzy.

It goes like this pretty much all day, up to bedtime.  He goes to bed, his little brain exhausted.  I often wonder what it's like in there, inside his head.  I fear I may come out exhausted if I were in there for more than an hour. 

And just like that he's sleeping and he's turned himself OFF till morning.

Goodnight.