The Smell of the Shaving Cream

After we saw Charlie, who lay down on his bed at 4am and may or may not have slept, on the bus -- the long night caught up with him and he was agitated on getting to school and extra noise didn't help -- Jim discovered that a can of shaving cream had exploded (the heat!) under the bathroom sink.

He was very contrite (he is a super good guy; I am admittedly biase) and handed me the above-photographed Tupperware. I took out the other plastic bottles that had been in it and started rinsing and wiping off shaving cream and marveled at the fact that it had all stayed in the one space and then, between that smell and having gone to sleep at 4am, all I kept thinking was, portable OT session, remembering when therapists sprayed the whole can on the little blue Little Tykes table Charlie did his home ABA sessions on.

'This is why it's better to get the small cans,' said Jim, who was rushing around to make the 8.41am train.

'It stayed contained,' I said and rinsed it all out and dropped Jim off at the train.

Charlie was fine the rest of the day at school and the incident occasioned a nice call from his teacher who also noted that he is in a brand-new classroom (new construction, actually, as the school has added on some space). She noted that it is a great space, bigger than where Charlie was last year (technically a conference room) but of course it is new.

Jim uses an electric shaver for Charlie and (not ready yet to try a blade on Charlie for fear of giving him a very unintended cut) as it does not do the closest job, an occasional trip to the barber is a good idea and we three indeed made such after a steady-paced bike ride and before dinner, two walks in the dusk and a good night's sleep for our boy.

Auismland, where the old, smaller room is preferred (at least for awhile) and where you use cans of shaving cream with 4-year-olds but not teenagers.