“I’m funny how? Funny like I’m a clown, I amuse you?”

Sarcasm: Remarks that mean the opposite of what they seem to say and are intended to mock or deride.

Add irony, hyperboles, understatements, metaphors, oxymorons, or the anticlimactic punchline – no, this isn’t a Language Arts pop quiz. These are the things not understood by my Autistic child, who lives in a literal world.

Last night we viewed a commercial for a new movie in which the main character exclaimed, “There is no such thing as—“ “DEREK!” his wife interjected. What my son heard was, “There is no such thing as Derek,” and promptly looked me in the eye and asked, “So the Derek in my class isn’t real?” Oh boy : )

In a household where sarcasm is spun more intricately than a debate between Alan Rickman and Joe Pesci, I find it extremely ironic (and entertaining!) that my son doesn’t comprehend the figurative language. Phrases like, “I laughed my head off”, “She cried her eyes out when she watched that episode”, or “Don’t blow a gasket, it’s just a video game” are lost on him. I certainly have to think twice when he asks if it would be cool to see him jump from the chair, over the dog, and onto the coffee table and I reply with, “Sure – that’s not dangerous…”

Before stumbling upon the realization that Autistic children can have trouble interpreting sarcasm, I wondered why classic momilies such as, “I’ll kick you into next week” and “Back off the TV or you’ll burn your eyes out” would elicit a mortified response from the boy. Can you imagine how confusing your universe would be if you took every message literally? No wonder I never got the desired result every time I reminded him to keep his hands and his feet to himself. In his mind, that meant keeping them attached to his body. Duh, mom!

I also used to think he was just being difficult when I would tell him it was his bedtime and he would immediately retort with, “It’s NOT! It’s 8:57!” Rounding up doesn’t exist, nor does approximation. A couple always means two and a few always means three when I am talking to him. And he holds me to it! We’ve also had many arguments arise when he would ask me how much longer until dinner and my answer was something like, “Not much longer” or “twenty minutes or so”. Frustrated, he would repeat the question until I answered in a way he understood. I had no idea that he simply doesn’t process vague statements.

My daughter and I are the complete opposite of him – we exaggerate for humor, paint mental pictures of the ridiculous when trying to prove a point, and typically function in a “go with the flow” state of being. It can be challenging to stop and alter how we communicate with him so he gets it, but I now see the importance of it! To him, we are sometimes speaking another language. He already feels left out being the only male; the last thing I want to do is isolate him further when I can simply adjust the way I phrase something.

When my daughter and I are laughing hysterically, shooting rapid-fire examples of “Imagine if” jokes and he either corrects us or chimes in with something completely irrelevant, we have learned to appreciate his beautiful mind. It is quite a gift to have such a different perspective presented to us on a daily basis.