La la and my teens finally got a diagnosis. They’re on the Asstism Rectum. Although high functioning, they’re also functioning high. Nineteen wakes me up pukin. If you’re gonna stay out drinkin, don’t come home pukin. I gotta go to work. He says, “I work too,” but doesn’t pay the bills. When you’re workin to party, don’t wake me. I bought him a car as an acheivable goal since he toked outta college. He can’t have it til he pays me back. When I ask, he says, “The money’s in the bank.” I tried that with the electric company. Now I can’t read, it’s too dark.
My felon branched out and become a chain in three states. I wouldn’t have known were I not searching online for him when he disappeared last month. I love Google. I found the recipe for Black and White Cookies and him facing 200 years for stickin Xboxes under his t-shirt. Don’t smile it’s not Candid Camera, it’s the FBI.
The things they do for drugs. Like pickin up some Beats for some dope when there’s no other dough, cuz ya feel like a part of you is dyin. You’re takin off the theft tag with a wand. You think you’re gonna shoot up, but the cops shout, “Put your hands up!” Ooh I guess they caught ya, Ooh they pulled their guns, Ooh ya won’t see freedom, not today.
The mother of one of his co-defendants texted her son was just givin Will a ride. No, no, no. When the car’s full of stolen merchandise it’s called ‘Party To A Crime’. You can cry if you wanna, but he was the getaway, not taxi driver. Overwhelmed with new evidence, I went in his fb and was blind sighted by messages between him and his younger brother.
I texted Sixteen, went to work and locked the door. He went to his dad, who started in on what kind of mother would lock her poor, little baby out of the house. Well, which is it? Ya can be a thug or need your mommy, not both. You’re gangsta enough to sell quads and set up ‘n’ words in dad’s stairwell, you can pull your resources while I’m at work. You said yourself, you “scrappy as fuck.” Scooby smokin too many doobies.
My felon sobered up about ten days later to the mess he’s made of life. He’s far away and I don’t know when I’ll ever see him again. Nineteen made a payment on his car so he’s half way to drivin. Sixteen’s school counselor wants a meeting to discuss how we can get him the support he needs. Oh that’s what I forgot to do! Support Asstism.
(c)2015 motherofafelon
BED POSTS 
I wish I was as high functioning as my Asstistic high functioning boy. Arsepergers, you gotta love it.
Once again, I find myself laughing but with a slight pain in my heart. You really are the master (mistress?) of wordplay.
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Oh I am so sorry about your felon son and now he’s so far away!! About his brothers too, really sorry. When I had a family member doing drugs, avoiding arrest warrants, could not be found, I used Google to find him. Sucks to find info that way but Google works. I swear sometimes there’s no bottom to what they’ll do for drugs, the pull is so insidious!! That other kid’s mom is in total denial!! I’ve seen it before, such BS and denial is not helpful to anybody, least of all her son. And your ex is no help with sixteen either!! Good luck with the school counselor. I’m glad nineteen at least made a payment on his car, something good there. All so heartbreaking and I agree with Lily, you are the master/mistress of wordplay. Asstism’s a good way to describe it all. Hugs from afar, I understand.
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You have a gift for turning tragedy to comedy, my friend. Hugs to you.
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