This week Jon’s teacher has been sending him home with copy-typing exercises: A list of 10 words to be read out loud, for Jon to spell and type out on the keyboard.

The first word: “the”. First Jon sneers (and types) “T—H—O“, and later on, “Z—H—E”, adding “It’s a silent ‘Z’!” He makes sure he pronounces it “zee”, because he knows it bugs the hell out of mom and dad. Every single word on the list is mangled in this obstreperous fashion.

The next day Jon’s told that if he messes up the words on purpose again, he won’t get a particular bedtime privilege. When I read out “the” Jon sullenly says “T—H—O“, but this time types it out correctly. Almost every word is spelled incorrectly aloud, but all are typed out just fine. He knows for damn sure what he can get away with!

What kind of wiseacre are we raising?

Jon’s return to school this year has been great. He has the same teacher this year as last–Tami, the first teacher to really click with him and see his potential. So, there is no transition to speak of, and no burden of trying to communicate all the subtleties of Jon’s situation to a new person with his or her own plans for teaching. Jon hit the ground running, back to all of the computer work and reading exercises that he left in June (in fact, we worked on reading and typing in the summer). So he’s very happy.

On Thursday, his bus arrived and I got on the bus to greet him and assist the driver as she unstrapped his wheelchair. Jon greeted me with a long list of what he did at school today–a paragraph where he’d never given me more than a sentence before. Wow. He was really communicative. Clearly, he was on top of his game.

So we got him inside and we got him a snack. We discovered that we still had some Doritos (pretty much his favourite junk food) from last week’s party and gave him a small bowl.

Since he was so on the ball, I tried something I do from time to time: weasel in a little extra reading time. The TV was on, Jon had a mouthful of chips and I suddenly produced the large-type booklet I print up of his school reading program. The title page reads “I find a baby monster“. Jon, mouth full of chips, studied it with full concentration, scanning it carefully. Then, he read to me: “I…am…eating…nachos!”

I fell over laughing. Jon went back to relaxing. Message received, loud and clear.

We borrowed a walker from Jon’s school for the summer, but due to an unfortunate incident early in the summer (Jon hit his legs on the adjustable bolts jutting from the frame) and the overwhelmingly popular cycling, we didn’t get to use it as much as he does at school. Still, he and I have been out the past two days (note the foam pads over the bolts).

Today, the Snowbirds passed overhead (part of the Canadian International Air Show) as we walked today and Jon froze and made a small noise. I expected terror, but as the deafening roar passed over, I heard a stream of awe-filled, testosterone-fueled chortles.

Maybe next year we’ll find a spot to try to watch them. It will require a lot of concentration for Jon: they move so fast, and out-of-sync from their sound. So maybe the enjoyment just comes from moments like this…

It may not be a sustainable exercise plan for adults, but Jon cycled up Logan hill on his trike to the Danforth, and over to Caffe Demetre, for one of their thick milkshakes (which he consumed entirely on his own), and then home. Round trip 2.5 km (over one and a half miles)!