At school, Max goes by the name of...Max. Not Fireman Max, as he insists we call him. Just Max—as in, his name. Nor has he ever asked to wear the Fire Chief hat there. Up until recently, when he did his homework he or I would sign it "Max." But recently, he started wanting to write "Fireman Max."
I've let him do it, even as I've wondered whether I should. His wonderful and wise teacher hasn't said anything so I haven't yet brought it up. Given that this isn't topping my list of Things To Worry About for now, I'm pondering.
I own up to being Max's firefighter enabler. I regularly reassure him, "Yes! You're going to be a fireman when you grow up." (And inform other people of that, too, at his request.) I've let him wear his Fire Chief hat to religious services. I've driven by the fire station on weekend evenings so he can say good night to Truck 31. Although I'm not entirely letting this firefighter thing rage out of control, so to speak; I have my limits.
Yet I'm stumped on this one. Fantasizing at home is fun and fine—perhaps Max will find work at the fire station when he grows up. School, though, that's the real world. (As real world as it gets for now, anyway.) Heck, I'd like to ID as Gisele but, no. If Max were in a typical school he'd never get away with writing Fireman Max on homework or tests, and perhaps I should hold him up to that standard.
Max doesn't show signs of taking homework or schoolwork less seriously because of this fireman thing. In fact, in his class he regularly types out sentences on his speech app about his fireman aspirations, encouraging spelling, typing and communication.
This isn't one of those conundrums you can Google, although I tried and this came up:
At some point soon, I'll ask his teacher. For now, as with other parts of special needs parenting, I'm making this up as I go along.
For better and worse, so is Max.