The boy comes home last week from the center and says there's a new girl there from Transylvania. I do a double take and ask him if he's sure. He's positive. Transylvania, Mom. I wisely let it go. What the heck is the likelihood of someone from Transylvania moving to West Texas to live in a group home and attend a center for the disabled? Really? But, who knows, right? He comes home the next day with a letter from the girl, filled with hearts and kissy signs and all manner of mushiness directed at my decidedly unmushy boy. That's going to work, right? She's drawn a picture of buck teeth on the paper as well, writing buck teeth beneath it, so he's perseverating on whether she thinks he has buck teeth, ignoring all the other little nonsense drawings she's made and all the suggestive ones indicating her clear desire to get jiggy with him. At the end, she's written, " Can I have your cell number?" and drawn boxes for yes and no. He's at a quandary of what to do. He's not overly fond of the phone, preferring to talk to his best friend only on the phone; anyone else, not so much, thank you.
All he can tell me about the girl is that she's from Transylvania. No age, no hair color, no size, no degree of functioning. So, she could be anywhere from her teens to her 70s and anywhere from high functioning (and based on her note, it would appear she's higher functioning than him) to lower functioning, from just mentally challenged to physically disabled as well, although he talks about the women with their sitters (walkers that also have the seat, so if she is physically disabled, it's not significant). There's absolutely no telling with the boy, because he's damn near person blind, not just face blind.
We decide yes on the cell-phone and the next day he comes home and tells me she's told him that she's his girlfriend. It's a good thing she's ready to lead, because left to the boy, no one would get anywhere. He's rehearsed with her, so he's also able to tell me she is 19 too and has blond eyes. I stop him and tell him I'm pretty sure she doesn't have blond eyes. Blank stare ensues.
Ah well. Tonight his friend from the center (the one he'll happily talk to on the phone, ususally nonsense about Brittany Spears-- I have no idea and wish for none) is over; we're eating, and the light goes off in my husband's head. Ask the friend, who is not faceblind. So Rick asks, where's Bobby's girlfriend from? Right out with it comes: Pennsylvania, and right away I lose it, nearly spewing my Fresca (I'm always losing my Fresca, dammit), bent over, laughing my ass off as I run to grab my cell and call Mama, who will get every bit as big a kick out of it as me.
The boy has a thing for vampires. He knows Transylvania. Pennsylvania he's never heard of and couldn't find on a map.
Will he remember correctly that she's from Pennsylvania? I wouldn't bet on it. :-)