This morning I was woken at 6.10am with the burning question, "How old was God when He died?". What prompted this I'm not sure, but every answer I gave was wrong. I said He wasn't dead. The Boy asked where He was then. I said He was everywhere. The Boy said He can't be everywhere, He's not here. I said you can't see Him. The Boy said He's a ghost then. I said He's not a ghost, He's not dead. The Boy said where is He then....
IT'S SIX O CLOCK IN THE MORNING ON A BANK HOLIDAY... I told him God died at the age of 48. He finished building the world and then died. "Is he in Heaven?". Yes, yes son, yes, I'm sure he is. Now please go and play on the A205 and leave me in bed for five more minutes.
It's not just God... Heaven was something we talked about a long time ago. Heaven is where Nosey and Fang the hamsters are, together with two Great Grannies, one Grandad and a bird we found at the side of the road. We cry more tears for the bird than any of the others put together. They all live together in Heaven, and have a swimming pool. Everybody in Heaven has a swimming pool. And XBOX Gold Live.
I've told The Boy countless shitty "facts" over the years to make life easier. Most of them in the heat of the moment and then I've regretted them instantly. But once they've been said in his mind they become as real as you and I. When he was younger he refused to wear a seatbelt. One day when he took it off while I was driving round the M25 I told him that if you travelled in a car without a seatbelt on you would crash and die. That has now become a fact set firmly in stone. To this day, he will not let you start the car engine until everybody is securely strapped in and he has done a visual check. Until yesterday...
I pulled out of school and I didn't notice my seatbelt wasn't on. Neither did he. The excitement of two easter eggs and another Gold Award distracted him. Fifty metres up the road I realised my error. I tried to pull the belt discreetly around me without him spotting. I failed.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DIDN'T WEAR A SEATBELT AND NOW WE WILL DIE AND IT WILL BE YOUR FAULT. WHY DO YOU WANT TO KILL YOUR SON???".
Tears already streaming down his face, the rage filling every part of him, the fear all too real in his eyes.
"YOU'VE MADE ME REALLY ANGRY AND WHEN WE'VE DIED AND WE GET TO HEAVEN I'M GOING TO HIT YOU REALLY HARD FOR KILLING US".
Yeh, look, about this Heaven business, son...
This blog is about bringing up The Boy. He's 12 years old and autistic. It's written by The Dad. It's my words, my view. Other people will think differently and have different opinions. Good.