“Bennett, take that waffle out of your pants, “I demanded my youngest son.  I am folding clothes and having a long distance conversation with a good friend of mine who knows my son’s daily antics.  “I bet you’ve never said that before, “ I said as if I had made the request about the waffle a million times before.

            Bennett wielded the waffle like a gun, shoving it into the waistband of his underwear and walking around the living room bull-legged.  I suddenly rethought my stance on not allowing toy guns or weapons of any kind in the house.  But Bennett doesn’t need those fancy toys of destruction, he had a frozen waffle? Who said kids with autism can’t role-play or pretend?

            I found myself caving into the “no toy weapons” policy I had instated.  The following week, I went out and bought a plastic pistol he could carry in his waistband.  Of course, he preferred the waffle.  So while other boys in the neighborhood wield swords, guns sticks and arrows, my son-yeah the one with Autism- will head into battle with a frozen waffle.  He may be teased, ridiculed and stared at, but who will be the last one standing when the rations run out?  Hard plastic will never taste as good as a waffle.