It’s a Friday morning before school. Mummy (that’s me) is clearing her emails. Daddy is making his own breakfast in the kitchen. Son #2 (my 18 month-old, let’s call him “Timmy”) is having his breakfast in his high-chair. Son #1 (my autistic five year-old, let’s call him “Joe”) has found a big ball and wants to play.
Joe picks up the ball and wanders over to where mummy and daddy are; looking at us hopefully, then verbally analyses the situation:
“Uh oh, you’re busy mummy and daddy.”
He wanders back towards his brother:
“Uh oh, you’re busy Timmy.”
He turns to face the wall; a triumphant smile on his face:
“Uh oh, you’re not busy wall!”
Then throws the ball at the wall.
That’s my problem-solving boy