Friday, 4 May 2012
The Yo Yo Man (write of passage number twenty-four)
And so on. I look resolutely to the front, but out of the corner of my eye, I can see that younger daughter can't resist glancing back. She's starting slightly at each YO! Sound sensitivity is a common thing among those on the spectrum. I smile at her reassuringly.
"It's okay," I say softly.
"What?" she asks, not so softly.
"YO!" says Yo-yo Man. "I'm coming to your house. I'M COMING TO YOUR HOUSE!"
We're pulling into LaBreton Station.
"I'M COMING TO YOUR HOUSE!" declares Yo-yo Man, moving swiftly and purposefully through the throng of bodies in the aisle. "'Scuse me!" He has absolutely no trouble getting to the exit, and strides off.
"I'M COMING TO YOUR HOUSE...."
"Goodness," I say to younger daughter. "I'm glad he's not coming to our house!"
I see heads turning to grin at me and other shoulders shaking.
I gather there's a consensus.