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Earlier this evening I overheard my wife talking with M about his twin's "ASD." At one point M said, "I wonder what ASD is like." It was all I could do not to intrude on their moment by walking into the room and giving M a hug.
Like his parents, he really doesn't understand what it's like to have autism, but even at such a young age, he's trying. I love that boy.
This guy — part of a vintage Fisher Price schoolhouse we found for the boys — really upset C. We had to put him away.*
No surprise: the letter tiles were a big hit, adding to our suspicions that C might be hyperlexic.
* On a related note, a vintage Fisher Price town we got them had a jail. I guess in the early 70s, bullies and criminal detention centers were still considered an appropriate element of pretend play by toy manufacturers.
This holiday season, it's important to remember you can never have too much love. Or maybe you can...
I am happy to report that Lewis P. is okay!
Lewis P is in the hospital.
Who is Lewis P and how do I know this? He's a boy who goes to school with C, and he's also one of the first and only people C has ever mentioned to us. In fact, C has described him as "his friend," a proclamation so profound and surprising I don't think I could ever forget the name.
I asked C if he had played with him today. "No, Lewis P is at the doctor."
"He's not at school?"
"No, he's at the doctor."
C says a lot of unusual things, so I asked my wife about it. Her expression was grim. "Yes, I heard he was in the ICU."
So now there's this. A little boy I don't even know, but who has distinguished himself to me by being my son's first official friend, and now he's apparently in the hospital.
I don't know you, little Lewis, but I hope you will be back at school soon. There's a little boy I know who would like to have his friend back.