This is a funny conversation I had with Mark a couple of months ago. It was when I was in a bad part of depression, and had some *strange* thinkings... if you know what I mean.
Anyway I was reading the newspaper about how children call 000 (or 911) for their parents in case of emergency.
Me: Mark what would you do if you found Mummy on the floor and you couldn't wake her up.
Mark: I'd call 000
Me: What would you tell them.
Mark: My name and that I couldn't wake my mum.
Me: They would need to know where we live.
Mark: OK I know that (I won't put that info on the internet at this time)
Me: They would also want to know if Mum has any health problems, do you know the name of the illness Mummy has?
Mark: Oh yes I know that one, you have Down Syndrome
Me: Close, its called Restless Leg Syndrome. Sheena has Down Syndrome.
He was so proud of himself knowing what my Syndrome was. He's a clever little chook, he understands to his level Sheena's condition, he recognises other people in the street with DS, and not in a bad way, just recognising that they look similar to his dear little cousin. He dutifully looks whenever Nan or Aunty Jo sends through a picture of Sheena saying "OOOH isn't she cute"
When I told him we'd be going down to Melbourne together for the holidays... oh not again. I explained how I really want to see Sheena... "Mum she looks just like in the photos." But I can't cuddle her I explained.
"Cuddle the photo"
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