It took some time and a bit of begging, but we finally received all the permissions we needed for our end of the year sleepover at my church. Six of our nine students were going to spend the night at my church with Joan and I. After transporting our students to the church, we spent the early afternoon just resting and letting each student “chill out” after eating an after-school snack. Later in the afternoon, we made our way to the church kitchen and began the group effort of making pizza for our dinner. We involved the kids in the cooking process as much as possible.
After dinner, we spent the evening playing games, listening to music, and dancing. It was fun to have such a large block of time to talk with the students and enjoy their excitement at doing something “different.” The students were allowed to bring music to share so it was fun to dance to BB King and Stevie Wonder. Early in the evening, we began to wash up for the night and put on pajamas. The medicine regimen alone took over an hour. We had only one rule for the evening: Everyone was allowed to have fun in whatever way they chose as long as they were not hurting themselves or anyone else. Joe did a LOT of jumping, Michael rattled on incessantly. Cate was fascinated with the toys in the church nursery. Kathy was allowed to sit and enjoy watching the others. Eric and Shyna spent most of the evening listening to the music or just walking around. Joan and I talked a lot with each other and acted silly with the kids.
When it was time for bed, it was a challenge getting all of the students settled on the floor of a Sunday school classroom, but finally we had everyone toileted and on mats in sleeping bags. When everyone was tucked in, we put on a Disney movie to finish out the evening. Everyone was asleep within an hour into the movie.
I wasn’t surprised when I met Joe’s mother to find an older heavyset woman with the mouth of a sailor. She seemed to be functioning at a level just slightly above Joe’s. Every sentence began with the word, “Goddammit…” Joe was getting a little better about his swearing and I definitely was becoming more immune to the offensiveness of it. More recently we had been working with Joe on making wiser decisions regarding not drinking the remains of a pop can before smashing it. It was especially a concern when we were out for walks if he picked a can out of the gutter. We talked with him about germs and dirt and how it was not good for him to put dirty things into his mouth. Some days he seemed to understand our concern, some days not.
The next morning of our sleepover became the real test of our endurance. Nobody had slept very well on the hard floor and I definitely did not wake up in the best form. We had decided we would wait until we arrived back at school and fix breakfast for the kids in the classroom, so all we had to do was medicate and dress the six students, ourselves, and get to school. It seemed like an easy task, but Joe was making it difficult. He was dressed quickly, but then began running around like a maniac.
Since I really needed to give my attention to cleaning up the other students for school, I had a plan for Joe. Our church had a huge box of collected cans in the basement that they intended to recycle. So down to the basement Joe and I marched.
“Joe, I have a surprise for you,” I said
“Joe, don’t cuss?” he replied.
“No, don’t worry,” I assured him, “this won’t make you cuss. It is a good surprise!”
As we rounded the corner, Joe's eyes opened wide when he saw the huge box of cans. I placed an empty box next to it.
“Now, Joe. I want you to smash all these cans, okay? I’m going to go upstairs and help Joan finish getting the others ready for school while you do this job, okay?”
Joe took the first can, smashed it, and placed it in the empty box. I went back upstairs to help Joan finish washing and dressing the others.
Every few minutes I would walk by the stairway and would hear Joe’s voice say, “Joe, that’s disgusting! Smash it!”
I thought to myself, ‘He’s probably drinking the leftovers in the can, but I don’t think it will kill him. I’ve got to get these kids ready.’
Joe smashed cans for about 30 minutes until we got everyone ready to go. Finally we were ready to go to school and Joan and I were already exhausted.
The school day was a disaster. Joe was acting horribly—the worst he had ever been. In fact, he was so naughty, we ended up calling his mother to come pick him up. Since she didn’t drive, she ended up picking him up in a taxicab. I figured the big change in his schedule must have really set him off. It wasn’t until later that day after I went home and was cleaning up the church that I went and checked on the cans Joe had smashed. It was only when I realized that most of the cans Joe had smashed were beer cans that I realized the big change in his schedule was NOT what had really set him off, but probably those last dribbles of beer left in each can that he drank before smashing it. It was certainly a memorable event to conclude a memorable year.
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