I don’t know what else to call them. The little nuggets of language that don’t make sense, and flow out of Becky’s mouth in a constant stream.

We had two new support workers starting this week. Yesterday, we had a lady working from morning to mid- afternoon. One of the things Becky needs to work on is meal planning, so they were left to plan their lunch together. Becky decided she wanted to make tomato soup; from scratch. I was surprised as Becky isn’t a big fan of tomatoes; they look like blood. We went to the library and then the grocery store. I was in pain I was so hungry, so I suggested some alternatives to speed lunch up; canned soup, Tim Horton’s soup, but, “No”, Becky wanted to make lunch.

We get home, and I immediately wolfed down a sandwich. They started cooking soup. They were chopping, frying, and simmering for quite a while. At around 1:30, Becky finally sat down to eat. She had two mouthfuls and left the table. “I don’t really like tomatoes”, she said. “Then why did you want to make tomato soup”, the worker asked? No response.

Later in the evening a different worker came and they were planning lunch for today. Becky suggested an hawaiian grilled cheese sandwich, as she’d spotted the recipe when looking for the soup earlier that day. “Do you like pineapple”, the worker asked? “No”, Becky answered. “Well, I’m pretty sure that an Hawaiian sandwich has pineapple in it”, explained the worker. “Can I make it without the pineapple”, Becky asked. “Sure”, said the worker, “but then it’s just a plain grilled cheese sandwich”.

“Oh”, said Becky, “because I really wanted Hawaiian”.

About chebandbecky

I was born in Birmingham, England and emigrated to Canada in 1988. Becky is my daughter who was injured in a car accident. We are working towards her independence.
This entry was posted in Disability, Family, Home, Humour, Independence, Life, parenting and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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