Shiny Happy People

There is a common misconception about children with Down syndrome.  Lots of people believe that they are all shiny, happy people who are always snuggly and cheery and angelic. 

Um?  No.

If they are all shiny, happy angels I totally got a defect.

That’s not to say that Cassie doesn’t have her moments of sweetness; she most certainly does.  They come fewer and further between than they did when she was an itty bitty thing, but every once in awhile she surprises me.

And then there are moments like today.

If you ask the sweet little old lady who Cassidy very nearly knocked to her tush about Cassie’s angelic side, she might be hard pressed to find anything good to say.

Today was voting day here in Southern Arizona (is that a nationwide thing? I’m clueless as to democratic process).  Anyway, the elementary school that Cassidy and Kennedy attend doubles as a voting center.  And after I picked Cass up and got the daily report from the new para (who I love by the way) we were walking back to the car to wait for the older sisters.

Now, I have to preface this by telling you that Cass loves old people.  I blame it on grandparent withdrawal.  She loves them.  She refers to all elderly people as Grandma or Grandpa.  It used to embarrass me but I’m over it.  She has a thing for men with long white beards too.  She calls them Santa.  That still embarrasses me.

Anyway, there was this sweet old lady with a cane minding her own business and doing her civic duty, walking, slowly but surely, towards the ballot with her name on it.  Her husband was quite a few feet ahead of her, with a cane of his own.  As we’re passing this lady, Cass reaches out and grabs her by the hand and says, “No!  Come this way,” and sort of whips her around to face the other direction. 

Yes she did.

The woman was left wobbling and searching for her balance.  In spite of my horror I reacted rather quickly and abandoned the stroller and Cassidy’s other  hand to reach out to assist in stabling this poor woman.  She was proud though and insisted that she was okay.  I apologized profusely.  Really, really profusely.  And do you know what she did?  Rather than spit in our general direction she engaged us in conversation.  It went something like this:

Little Old Lady: Whoa there little lady!  And what is your name?
Cassidy: Cassidy.  (It doesn’t quite come out that clearly, but she is well versed on her name so she pretty much gets it right every time).
Little Old Lady: Oh, Kathleen?  That’s beautiful.  And what about this little guy?  What’s his name?
Cassidy: Jayce.
Little Old Lady: David?
Cassidy: No!  Jayce.  Not David.
(A little help from mom here in translating from David to Jayce).
Little Old Lady:  And how old are you Kathleen?
Kathlissidy: Eight!  What’s this stick(Cassidy reaching out and nearly snatching the lady’s cane)?
Little Old Lady: (Tightly gripping the cane) Oh, I need this old thing to walk because I’m very old.  Can you guess how old I am?
Cassidy: (Says not a peep and only beams ear to ear – Thank God for small miracles).
Little Old Lady: I’m 89!  Did you ever know somebody to be that old?
Cassidy: (Shakes her head no, still smiling).  Okay.  Bye!
Little Old Lady: Bye Kathleen!

I apologized profusely again before walking (in utter shame btw) the rest of the way to the car.  The lady waved off my apologies as if I was a madwoman.  A madwoman whose sweet angelic child just about broke her hip.

I know it may seem as though I’m an inattentive mom.  But believe me when I tell you I most certainly am not.  Cassidy is quick.  Very quick, but only when the last thing I need is for her reflexes to put mine to shame.  Putting on shoes, finishing her dinner, brushing her teeth?  None of these activities produce any degree of speed.  But boy when there is a vulnerable elderly person in the vicinity, that kid can move.

That’s my girl alright.  She sure knows how to make a mama proud.