Same Difference

Parker walked into the living room, swinging an almost empty bread sack, and asking, "Mom, do you want me to save this or just throw it away?"
"Why would you throw it away?"
"Cause all that's left is the feet." he replied with a totally straight face.
Hillary cracked up. Of course he meant the "heels" but when this was pointed out to him he said, "Feet...heels...same difference."
The night before, we had been working on a crossword puzzle as a group, shouting out clues and twisting the paper this way and that so we could take turns seeing the squares. Parker was making tea in the kitchen. Someone shouted out a clue and Parker guessed "can?"..."No, it ends with an 'e'" was the reply. Parker shrugged and said, "Same difference."
Again, laughter, because obviously, it is NOT the same difference. But to Parker's dyslexic brain, it is. What I love about him is that he seems to enjoy the humor we get out of his verbal snafoos. He doesn't seem to see it as a flaw in himself, but as a funny acceptable part of who he is. As a chronic worrier about my children's feelings, I tend to try to hold it in when he makes funny word mistakes...and then I scrutinize his face for clues that the others are hurting his feelings. But he just smiles and gets this look like, "Yeah, I make people laugh. What can YOU do?"
Dyslexic...genius...Parker...
Same difference to me.