Why We Can’t Go To Vegas

Rhema is addicted to slots.

When she was 2 years old, we took her to Chuck E. Cheese. I suspect that the sounds of the kids, the games, the music, the lights, the smells were too much for her senses. She had trouble organizing all of the stimuli. So as not to become overwhelmed, she chose to focus on one thing – the coin slots.

She spent the whole day at Chuck E. Cheese pushing coins into the slots of the various games and rides, not the least bit interested in playing the games or riding on the little merry-go-round… she just busied herself by running around and inserting coins into every machine. Poor, innocent kids had their cups of tokens swiped by a 2 year old — she would help herself to their tokens and interrupt their games just so she could stick a token in the slot. She did not seem to see most of Chuck E. Cheese, except for all the coin slots in it. The same was true in other places… if there was a soda, vending or bubble gum machine, she just had to have a quarter to insert. The items for sale in the machine were of no importance.

Thankfully, Rhema plays more appropriately at Chuck E. Cheese now, enoying the rides and slides. Her love for slots continues, and she makes use of all the “slot spots” in our house. Here are some:

I have baked many a quarter in this oven:

 

The TV and DVD players are always a great target – there are so many slots!

 

We’ve shred more than just paper in this shredder:
Sometimes when I’m driving, coins will shower down from the car vents above the console:

 

But coins are not the only objects that fit into slots. 

Rhema would PERISH if she were forced to throw her popsicle sticks in the trash can. No, they MUST be slid into the slot between the couch and the fireplace.  (We pushed the couch against the fireplace to keep the kids out of it).

The popsicle sticks have jokes printed on them.  When I feel like a good laugh, I move the couch and sweep up the sticks.

One of my favorites:

What did the girl melon say when the boy melon wanted to get married?

We’re too young. We canteloupe!

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11 thoughts on “Why We Can’t Go To Vegas

  1. Ah, then you will love this one:

    “honeydew ya love me?
    Cantaloupe now,
    gotta watermelon!”

    You know you can buy slot machines, right? Seriously, my father-in-law has one. Imagine Rhema’s face as she sees an honest-to-goodness vegas-style slot machine under the Christmas tree…

    I know, I’m a bad influence.

  2. Great laugh! Praise God that you can find joy in what would be so frustrating to others. The popsicle sticks would be endless humor for me.
    And I agree. Chuckie Cheese is too much for me, never mind any child. I’ve seen some kids just sit in their mom’s lap and suck their thumb and just TRY to take in all that’s going on. I can only imagine what it’s like for Rhema.
    My child, like JoyMama, likes to find little “cozy corners” too. Under our kitchen table is a favorite no matter how many times he bumps his head!

  3. Pingback: Why Mama Eats Blue Cotton Candy « Autism In a Word

  4. Pingback: Coin Craze « Autism In a Word

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