One Boy One Cup

I really haven’t written much about my other job. It’s not that it’s less exciting, it’s just more violent and depressing. However, I’m sure that I’ll end up sharing stories here and there.

One such story is about James, my favorite client at this particular home. He lives with three other low functioning Autistic boys. They all have their little quirks, which I’m sure I will detail at a later date, but James'…we will just say are the most endearing. First of all, James is diagnosed with PICA, which basically means that he eats anything that isn’t bolted down. Socks, curtains, pillows, books, feathers and chicken bones are some of the things that I've seen him try to consume. Oh, and also his own shit. The boy loves eating his own feces. At this point working with him, I’d almost offer a nearby phonebook, or even feathers (At least it is PART of an animal) to him, but shit is another story. It’s horrible for his privacy because we essentially have to watch him while he uses the bathroom and any other time he is not being occupied by another activity (meaning a prescribed program, eating anything non-toxic or flinging his own spit at people, which I may get to later) because what shit he doesn’t try to eat eat, he smears. On the walls, bed, clothing, in his hair, it doesn’t matter. Waste not want not I guess.

So one day I was working and James was sitting on the floor with a blanket over his head as he’s wont to do since he’s kind of disturbed by any open place, even in his own home. I'm the one that usually take responsibility for watching him because:
1. Most of the staff is lazy and usually doesn’t.
2. I don’t really like to clean up shit do you?
So there he is, sitting on the floor for quite some time not moving much at all. Well, this sends off some kind of warning to me, because he is usually an active kid. You know, so much to eat, so little time. So I raise the blanket off of his head and there in his lap, is a cup full of shit. I wanted to believe that it was anything but shit, but there it was, just sitting there. I took it from him, but it made me wonder; where did it come from? He was completely sitting on the floor the whole time. There were no feces in his mouth, on his hands, blanket or the wall beside him. The cup was completely clean except for that little dollop of shit.

How did this happen? If he has discovered shit teleportation, we are all in big trouble.