Yesterday was April Fool’s Day.

It is kind of a big deal in my house, mostly because we are a bunch of a$$holes who like to show our love by humiliating each other. I know we are flawed, but we are happy.

Well, at least most of us are.

My Aspergian husband/editor is mostly just confused. He doesn’t really get teasing as a form of love. “Teasing is illogical” says the Vulcan who understands most emotions by what he reads about them “The message conveyed opposes our previously agreed-upon strategy in which we strive to ensure every family member feels safe; trust is essential to the perception of safety.”

Oh, Spock.

The interesting thing about loving someone on the Autism spectrum who is less-than-intuitive in the emotional intelligence department, is that it makes you question your own relationship towards emotion. I grew up with teasing as the main form of affection. Seriously, teasing equaled love in my formative years. I got loud and clear messages of “I love you no matter what” and “I am proud of you” – but always, ALWAYS couched in glib remarks and backhanded compliments. The idea of saying those things and not insulting each other at the same time was just way too cheesy… and vulnerable.

Yes, the irony of Spock being more emotionally healthy than I am is not lost on me.

But now I am a grown woman, a mindful adult raising my own children. I am free to break from my negative relationship feedback loop and plow forward with honesty and integrity in my heart and my words.

Buuuuuuuut…. I can’t. I simply can’t. I am too hardwired for sassy comebacks and the concept of “Kids, if it makes me laugh, you can get away with it.”

It makes for some interesting children. I was driving one day with Spencer (15) and he was telling me about his school antics, it was pretty metal – but it included some mild harassment.

Me: “Why can’t you just be nice, like your best friend Logan?” *
Spencer: “Mom, you can either have nice, or you can have funny. You chose funny. You’re welcome.”

So, long story short, I came home with a half-dozen “cream-filled” doughnuts (in actually I had secretly scooped out the cream and replaced it with mayonnaise). It was pretty gross, maybe a little cruel, and it was AWESOME. Spock was horrified. He is seriously evaluating the relationship at this point. The reactions of the children were priceless.

Cheyenne (13) was totally grossed out, ran around the house screaming and scouring her tongue and gobbling gum to get the nasty taste out of her mouth, dramatically inquiring “How could you do this? Why? Why?”

Spencer (15) realized it was mayo and took one more bite, declaring “Still a doughnut.”

Boo (11), ever the skeptic, smelled, licked, and tossed it in the sink.

Gia (5) cried.

Campbell (3) ate two entire donuts and asked for one more.

So, in conclusion, I love my kids and would do anything for them – except give up a really good joke or story at their expense. And that is why this is not so much a parenting advice blog as a realization that we are all deeply flawed.

And mayo-filled doughnuts are deeply funny.

*I realize conventional wisdom frowns upon comparing kids to others – but I am clearly not the perfect parent – or person, for that matter. Give a girl a break. He knows I love him for exactly who he is….
Usually.
Sometimes.
At least I keep him fed.

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