The Last Straw
All Leelo wants right now is a straw. And then another straw. And then he'll remember that straw he had yesterday and which he fidgeted with and twisted and chewed on all day and which somehow survived--thereby proving that it was THE BEST STRAW. And then he'll remember that THE BEST STRAW got subjected to the critical test for all things beloved by Leelo: object permanence. If he throws THE BEST STRAW behind the washer or under the deck, will it really be gone? Yes, it will! Please stand by for All Hell Breaking Loose.
People have asked what they should get Leelo for Xmas, and I have replied in all sincerity that he'd be happiest with a box of nice strong straws--and please don't bother with those flimsy crappy clear ones that don't give nearly enough sensory feedback. A box of straws would be a vicarious gift for me, too, as I wouldn't mind a reprieve from my current role as the local restaurants' Straw Beggar and Thief.
The straws at Tuesday Night Sushi are no longer sufficient for our boy. He spends most of our meal agitating for the "pink straw pink straw pink straw!" available at the Sushi-adjacent ice cream store, but I have taken advantage enough of that shop owner's good nature and won't go in unless we're buying something. The CalTrain that runs outside the restaurant window used to keep Leelo engaged, but no longer--his interests and sensory needs are changing. Sushi no longer has anything to offer Leelo--plus it is too loud and overwhelming for him--so Jo and I have decided to relocate our Tuesday night dinners to Sewerage (Indian). Changing locations also means I won't need to relive Leelo's bolting out of the restaurant and into oncoming traffic right each time I look out the window--Sewerage has no windows. Most importantly, Leelo likes Sewerage and he knows that he'll get bottomless baskets of naan there.
Of course, now that Jo is waiting to find out just how serious her condition is, Tuesdays will be on hold for a while anyhow. I just can't believe that Jo is sick on top of everything else in her life. So many dear people I know, including my Dad, are so very sick or in such fucked-up situations at the moment. I keep thinking each shitbomb will be the last straw, but apparently the Powers-that-Be shop at Costco and have a box of straws the likes of which Leelo can only dream.