I'm not a mind reader

A couple of days ago Truman was looking at one of his Garfield books in the backseat, and he noticed that John, Garfield's owner, has speech balloons, but that Garfield only has thought balloons. Anything Garfield "says" is really just him thinking the words and not actually saying them. But in one of the panels, it seems that John answers Garfield's thoughts... kind of like he knew what Garfield was thinking.

So I get the question from the back seat, "How'd he do that? Can John read minds?"

"Well, you know how when you really know someone and you can tell what they are thinking? You know, like me. Can't you tell sometimes just because you live with me and know me so well what is going on in my head a little? Like maybe you could guess what I was thinking?"

"No."

And it was one of those Oprah patented a-ha! moments. How many therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists, doctors and nurse practitioners and other professionals have we seen over the course of his lifetime who have talked to us about autism, and specifically, Asperger's and its symptoms? How many books have I read on the topic? How much in general have I thought about his lack of reading people emotionally and not fully understood that he just can't do it naturally? And if I, the person who spends practically every waking moment with him, sometimes a lot of should-be-sleeping moments with him, and knows him better than anyone else in the whole world can't wrap my head fully around his inability to read people, how in the world can a teacher, another adult of any sort, other kids, or anyone who isn't fully immersed in Truman-land really get it?

Recently, he saw me at my computer and said, "Are you mad?" When I said no, that I was just thinking and asked why he thought I was angry, he said, "Well, you weren't talking, and your mouth was doing that thing where it turns down and your eyebrows were doing that thing where they point down in the middle. That usually means you're mad, though I haven't heard your voice go up, which is funny that when you're mad your eyebrows and your mouth go down but your voice goes up."

Up to this point, he wouldn't have been able to put those things together: Down mouth + down eyebrows + up voice = angry. That he can analyze the situation based on a list of things to look for in a mood, is a big step, and another good reminder for me that he can't just glance at me and without thinking, get a sense that I'm angry or thinking, or happy or nervous or whatever the case may be. He has to know the checklist of what to look for in each of those individual situations, be in a space himself where he's able to focus, and not be completely overtaken by something in his head. For all those things to be in alignment is rare as it is, so that he could have a moment to be able to detect a mood or a situation with his analytical checklist is almost unheard of. Mostly he spends his time in Truman-land.

You just... forget. He looks like a duck, he acts like a duck, he quacks like a duck, but he doesn't understand the nuanced social interactions, facial expressions, tone of voice or any of the other little things that make ducks duck-like. And he certainly doesn't understand the unspoken things that go on between us ducks. It must be weird to paddle around as a gosling in a duck world. Though maybe it's not, and he expects that everyone mostly feels the way he does and goes around in their own individual bubbles. Which I think is more than likely the case.

And so I cut you a break, world. I cut you a break for forgetting or even not understanding fully or at all what kind of guy you're dealing with. And I cut you a break for being frustrated with him because it's not very often that he'll take the time to return the favor of trying to figure you out. It's so deeply in there for us ducks to unconsciously scan each other for all the small things that tell us about another duck so that we can interact with them most effectively that we just expect that same thing to be happening for others, and for them to be perceiving us and understanding our unspoken clues. It's so deeply in there that I know all of it about my own gosling, and I still forget.