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Living with Luke 67

May 28, 2016

Sometimes he does talk to me. 

Well, not so much talk, but reply to something I’ve said in a way that could be classed as talking and it also sometimes turns into something insightful from my little autistic philosopher. 

I’m a man – you’ve probably noticed this – and as a man it is an unwritten law, like barbecues, cutting the grass and making the tea for TCMH in the morning, that we control the TV remotes. We’ve studied them, we know which buttons do what and what shortcuts to take to get us to which channel quickly. Why? Because TCMH, by her own admission I might add, isn’t great with technology-if by technology we mean a many buttoned box to point at a TV that saves us getting up off our lazy arses and walking all of a metre to change the channel. So she surrenders the remotes to me. So sayeth the Law…

But I find that my position as the First Lord of the Doobery-Whatsit, Ruler Supreme of the TiVo, is now being usurped by You-Know-Who. He sits there – and for those who have Tivo’s know all about this – setting series link after series link, recording things that he NEVER watches and never will watch! To date we have over 700 series links and Wishlist searches for so much stuff that, if it recorded it all, would probably take up the space of 10 Tivo’s and he still would keep adding to it.  I spend at least an hour per week deleting things like ‘Nothing to Declare – Australia’, Polish Radio, French news programmes and bizarrely, spooky tales from India. I not only have to delete them but also the Star Trek, Teletubbies, Postman Pat, Ben & Holly, Peppa Pig and Thomas the Tank Engine episodes not only from the programme list but ALSO from the deleted file, because otherwise he’ll recover them and put them back. And why do I delete them? Cos he’s already got them on DVD!!

But the other day after work, I wanted to sit down for a while and watch something mindless for a bit – Tipping Point probably. (If we ever go to Walton pier now, I like to answer a question before I drop my 2p into the machine. I do have to stop myself from saying, “Drop zone 3 please Ben…” though).

ANYWAY…I leaned down to Tiddles and held my hand out for the remote control. He, amazingly, passed it over without a shout or a refusal – one of the rare times that he has done so. Feeling quite pleased with myself and him, I thanked him and turned away. 

“Not for long…” He said. And he was right of course, because we never really have anything for long, do we? Everything is fleeting, and moments between us even more so. 

Where his phrase came from, I do not know. Whether it was directed at me, I do not know. What I did know was that it was totally in the context of our exchange. It was both funny and amazing. Mainly because these micro moments are just so rare. It’s a brief glimpse of another world, another timeline, where the teenage Luke is moody and non-commital. Where I would be accepting of the grunts and one word answers. But in my world – this timeline, I crave that monosyllabic connection. Any link that we could have that would, just for the briefest of times bring us together. I need them. And I’ll take them wherever and whenever they happen. 

Gratefully…but they’ll always be…

‘Not for long…’

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