Y'see, there's this guy at Disneyland that comes on the loudspeaker for announcements: "Ladies and gentlemen, in just 15 minutes the skies above Sleeping Beauty Castle...." I call him Mr. Voice.
Mr. Voice has that kind of deep announcer voice that just...well, grabs your attention.
New Boy C is now Mr. Voice.
Mr. Voice -- the school one, not the Disney one -- likes to be loud. In fact, the more he doesn't want to do something, the louder he gets.
Mr. Voice also has a great sense of humor. He was fiddling with the volume on our teaching game the other day, and would chuckle every time I asked him to turn it back down. I don't much care what psych and IQ testing and even his school performance says (psych testing is skewed against folks with autism anyway): this is one bright cookie.
Anyway, he figured out that M copies everybody. So today, he made a noise, kind of a loud grunt. M copied him. His eyes lit up and he grinned.
He made another noise, a bit louder. M, now beaming herself, copied him.
Sometimes it was vocalizations (noises, grunts, squeals), sometimes it was scripting, but back and forth it went, louder and louder and louder.
It was Dueling Banjos: The Screaming Version.
If it hadn't made the rest of the kids (and me) crazy, it'd have been funny. As it was, apparently my behavior management mojo deserted me today, and I had a hard time redirecting either of them.
By the time I went to the office to sign my 2-week attendance paper, I was twitching and losing words...our poor office clerk had to decipher, "I have to...sign the...the...the thing."
But, at least my day wasn't as dramatic as Cat's. (Sorry, Cat.)