I am sure that this last afternoon, Ricki viewed her brother as something akin to an integrator. I was taking an afternoon nap, and he suddenly noticed that she was not at home. He called out her name, and she came in the front door.
Now how well does your average 16 year-old get along with a 13 year old sister? They LOVE to pick on them. And the fact that she has Down syndrome makes no difference. So he starts interrogating her. “Where were you? WHERE?”
And what is your average kid (if there is such a thing) with Down syndrome do when questioned in a threatening voice? Ricki shrugged, “I dunno…”
At this point I intervened, calmly ascertaining that Ricki had only exited the front door as part of a make-believe game. I diplomatically abstained from telling her brother off. I figured he had already realized that yelling was a mistake, and I didn’t have anything to gain by mentioning it.