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The girl behind the counter looked at us expectantly. It looked like chocolate chip, a particular favorite of Felix’s.For myself I pointed at some chocolate hazelnut concoction. A delight so powerful and radiant that it emanated throughout the gelateria, causing young families and old couples to swivel in their seats, laughing at the extent of Felix’s happiness. We did not know then that Felix was autistic, a diagnosis that would come in the following year.Instead I settled on a bench and played with Felix while Jason disappeared for a moment, then reappeared with a cup of raspberry sorbetto for himself, a . We avoided the looks of the villagers, in the process almost running over an elderly thick-calved lady who stepped towards us, wanting to help. Yet it was clear that they still had not learned their lesson. We both knew the likely outcome of giving in to this urge. n the night of December 17, 1991, Kim Dadou’s boyfriend, Darnell Sanders, drove up to her mother’s house.
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“,” I whispered in his ear, not quite certain of the pronunciation, not to mention meaning, of what I was reading, but enjoying the melody of the syllables.
Was this what language was like for my son, pure rhythm and intonation?
My eyes probably gleamed in the same way as Felix’s.
I hadn’t had real gelato since my honeymoon in Italy years before.
Most of our friends with kids Felix’s age could at best pop a sandwich into their mouths while squatting under the table to stop their kids from overturning it. We ate them as slowly as we could, savoring the taste, as Jason did some hand-over-hand feeding with Felix. When there was only one bite left, Jason scooped it up and held it in front of Felix. Jason tried to feed him the last bite, but Felix swatted the spoon away. Someone played the organ, enchanting Felix, who also seemed pleased by the way his walker glided on the smooth marble floors.
Felix, however, loved restaurants and routinely allowed us to camp out at them for two or three hours. He would grab their hands and pull them towards him, a pretty crude technique, but I cannot recall anyone ever getting annoyed, only a succession of pretty girls laughing and leaning down to kiss him, occasionally brushing his head with their breasts. The sun had burned away every bit of cloud in the sky. We hoped that letting Felix wield the spoon would prepare him for and let him understand the inevitability of what was to come. He, Felix Factor, was taking it out of the cup and putting it into his mouth. And then it came, the full throttle AAAAARRRRRRRRUUUUUUUGGGGAAAAARRRRRRRRUUUUUUUGGGGGGG GGGGGGAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH HHHHAAAAARRRRRRRRUUUUUUUGGAAAAARRRRRRRRUUUUUUUGGGGG GGGGGGGGAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAHHHHH HHHHHHHHAAAAARRRRRRRRUUUUUUUGGGGAAAAARRRRRRRRUUUUU UUGGGGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAH HHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAARRRRRRRRUUUUUUUGGAAAAARRRRRRRRUUU UUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGAA AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! ” We just raced on, pretending somehow we hadn’t seen her, to the shelter of our car, where Felix would continue to scream, but at least not so publicly. At one point in our stay, the enormous front doors opened and a funeral procession entered.
We had a pretty good idea of what Felix was feeling, for he had a mobile and expressive face.
But it is one thing to note that he was happy, sad, amused, bored, interested, sulky, furious or anguished, and quite another to know why.
“Oh sweetie, we’ll get more ice cream tomorrow,” I said, hoping that my voice would convey some sort of comfort, for Felix was a master of intonation. The “g” paradoxically stands for gastronomy, a practice from which they are excluded.
Their food is pumped into them through the nose or straight into the stomach, rendering it tasteless, pure nutrition.
Judging from the array of expressions that lighten and darken Felix’s face, not to mention his coos, shouts and giggles, I am convinced that Felix experiences a much fuller palette of emotions than Temple Grandin, but I suspect that he may share her propensity for a single emotion coming at him full throttle. Having reached what seemed an appropriate distance, we swiveled around and hightailed it out of there, racing through a maze of alleys, hoisting the stroller with its screaming cargo up and down narrow staircases until at last we reached the great arched door out of the city. Felix’s brain damage had also affected his muscle tone, rendering him hypotonic, or, to use the term favored by earlier, more descriptive generations, “floppy.” His muscle tone was so low that it had taken him over a year to learn how to sit.Tags: Adult Dating, affair dating, sex dating