So I’m bringing out my inner bad guy, the I-don’t-care-giver. (Just made that up. Are you impressed?)
The care giver was the weepy guy who went out to find a new VCR after his son with autism push-buttoned the last machine unto destruction.
Thank God for a last minute light bulb appearing above the care giver’s bald head. A glimmer of memory sent me into a file to find that the broken VCR was still under warranty, so off to the big box vendor I went.
But that came after an infernally long time in line with all kinds of people and their broken gadgets and their endless questions. All of the jokes about old people and technology (I count myself as one of them) are true.
As I drove home with the new item, the I-don’t-care-giver began to emerge. I (it) did not go and dutifully connect the new VCR for the kid to abuse.
I (it) did not put it out in view to reassure the kid that he could go back to pressing buttons in endless rewinds and fast forwards and 3 second snippets of “play.”
No, I (it – you know, the I-don’t-care-giver) hid the VCR downstairs and told the kid, “Soon a man will bring a new VCR. But you have to stop pushing buttons. You will break it.”
Then the I-don’t-care-giver called the case manager and staff at the kid’s day program, to start a conversation about how to suppress the button pushing. And I (it) won’t give the kid a VCR until that strategy is in place.
It’s going to be difficult. The kid gets up to watch movies while the I-don’t-care-giver and his consort are sound asleep. We can’t be on him 24/7 like real, loving, accomplished, perfect and effective care givers.
But this is a skill he needs to have before he moves into residential placement, which could happen very soon. His housemates will not appreciate him pushing buttons, either on their contraptions or their personalities.
The I-don’t-care-giver. It’s here to help people. It just wants a better world for us all.
Bwah hah hah hah.