Anzac parade

Today my boy proudly marched in the ANZAC Day parade through the city with his grandfather and myself, all dressed up in his suit and tie (which he'd insisted on) and he didn't lose his cool.
Not once.
Well...not if you count the day after he managed to get out of bed following the umpteen naggings from Yours Truly for him to shift his carcass.
Oh, yes, we're doing the 'sleep in all day if we could' male teen thing.
And female teen thing.
And if we're going to be entirely honest anyone over the age of 2 thing, I suppose.
Seriously, you mean you don't leap all wide eyed and bushy tailed from your warm bed the moment the Pokemon clock starts squealing Pikachu babble in your shell-like ear?
That thing needs to be de-barked with a Phillips head screwdriver but Aspie teen would never forgive me.
Anyway, Pikachu didn't inspire him to happily jump out of bed so I got to do my nagging routine.
Yet again.
Oh. Yay. Be still my beating heart.
Except we have to nag in imaginative ways so that he doesn't get all fired up, then start the day revved in filthy temper mode otherwise the day is a right-off.
Another thing they don't tell you about the Spectrum - it helps you broaden your imagination and creative horizons (oh, I so shoulda gone into marketing *snort*).
So, gentle bribing with the option of extra chocolate for sweets didn't quite cut the mustard but me offering to sing to him all the way in the train to the city and all the way home again suddenly got him vertical and organised for the day.
Just to make doubly sure he sat several seats away from me on the train and refused to make eye contact, saying "My mother always says not to look at strays or they'll follow me home".
Cheeky bugger.