The Pronunciation Puzzle

People who didn’t know Max when he was younger are often surprised to hear that he has a speech disorder. I imagine it’s because one of Max’s current problems is that he can’t stop talking.

But back when he was only two-and-a-half, and had just been diagnosed with apraxia, he was extremely frustrated by his limited communication abilities. I was, too. Trying to understand what he was saying was like solving a puzzle; he’d give me a small piece, maybe only part of a single word, and I’d reach back into my mind to recall the days events and see where this piece fit in. If I took too long to figure it out – or was unsuccessful – Max became very upset.

That was almost four years ago. Today, Max’s apraxia is considered “resolved” in that he talks easily and is easily understood. He does, however, have resulting articulation problems. Many kids with apraxia have trouble with their handwriting and learning how to read. At only six years old, I don’t yet know if Max’s scrawls and labored reading attempts are simply typical for his age or a result of the apraxia. Only time will tell.

Since his speech has been pretty much caught up to speed, we don’t have too many puzzle solving moments. Now that he can communicate so well, he’s able to give me more pieces if I do have trouble understanding a particular word. So I was caught off guard the other day when he calmly started telling me about his day at school and ended up a hysterical mess.

He was telling me about something his teacher gave the class. “Our fertick—you know what I’m talking about,” he insisted. I had no clue. I asked him to say the word slowly. It sounded like he was saying, “fertickverstick.”

It quickly became clear that repeating “fertickverstick” wasn’t going to help me solve the puzzle. “Can you give me more information?” I asked him. “What does this have to do with?” My questions only agitated him more. He carried on, calling me names, until we got home. His tantrum continued until he went to his room to play his Game Cube – it’s something that usually settles him down. I went into the kitchen to empty lunch boxes and go through backpacks when I stumbled upon the answer to the puzzle. Inside his school folder was a yellow piece of paper with the words “Outstanding Behavior” written across the top.

Fertickverstick. Certificate.

Am I the only one who finds it amusing that Max’s reward for good behavior resulted in a world-class fit?