Day One, Again


‘Brush-ee-a-head!’ My severely autistic son is stood in the middle of the living room, blue eyes beaming right into me, eagerly awaiting my reply: ‘Brush-ee-a-head!’ In the world of the Shaykh (his online nickname, to be explained another time), this is chat. He has no social language: a mumbled hello at best; no ‘how are you?’ Ask him his name and you’ll get no reply. He knows the answer, but the inquiry baffles him. In his 27 years of experience, almost everyone who has ever asked him that question already knows the answer. Troubled by their faulty logic, he either glares at the would-be interlocutor or shuffles away. We toss a few more neurologically atypical phrases back and forth before he clumps back to his business on the PC. Continue reading

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