Being literal can cause real Chaos in Kent… and much laughter

When I look on social media, there is often so much doom and gloom about living in the world of SEN.  I have three children with statements of SEN and we’ve lost count of the labels we have been awarded so I know there are lots of things that can bring you to your knees.  I wrote about some of them on an earlier post Do you Remember – but today, let’s celebrate one of the more entertaining aspects of the SEN world.

My eldest son is as literal as they get, so for those who don’t quite understand what I mean, an example would be we can’t talk about it raining cats and dogs because he would run and hide in case a dog or cat hit him.    It has taken us years to get our heads around the various aspects of it but here are some of the joyful moments his literal world have brought us.  Some of you will have heard them before but they still make me laugh so I wanted to share them for my new readers to enjoy.

Literal WorldFrog in my throat:

Driving down the motorway one day, with an awful cough, I cleared my throat.  Now my eldest at that point had real issues around people being sick and he queried whether my cough was actually me about to be sick.  Of course, I reassured him but without thinking, I said “I just have a frog in my throat”.  Well, it would have been easier to just be sick, I think.  Having a frog in my throat was much worse than me being sick. We ended up on the hard shoulder so I could let him look down my throat and see for himself that there was no frog down there.

Mum, Debs or Hiya?

For years, he called me “Hiya” because that’s what people said when we met them so he presumed that was my name.  I would leave him at nursery and much to the amusement of the staff and other parents, he would shout “bye Hiya”, “see you Hiya”.  I remember first realising this and saying to my dad “I’m sure he thinks my name is Hiya” to which he, understandably, laughed and said “no, he knows you are called Mum”.  So as we sat to dinner that evening, my Dad said “Hiya K” and he said “Hiya Grandad”; my mum then said “Hiya K, he replied Hiya Grandma” and then I said “Hiya K” to which he replied “Hiya Hiya”.

Gradually he realised this was not my name and that I was called Debs.  So for many years, he then called me “Debs” rather than “Mum”.  He would come home from school and much to the horror of his escort, would waltz in and say “Hi Debs, where’s Chris?”  I was confu