Thinking Inside the Box

Earlier this week, Martin entered the apartment with me and discovered that I’d left a box on the kitchen counter. It was nothing special, just an Internet purchase I had not opened since it arrived that morning.

Martin poked the box, looked at me, and asked casually—note that I try to avoid adverbs, so if I’m using one, read it in emphatic italics: So help me, he asked it casually—“Mommy, what’s in this box?”

The question was spot-on. It was relevant, directed (including eye contact), and succinct. He even got the intonation right.

Not impressed? Get a kid with autism.

Martin’s verbal skills are outstanding these past couple weeks. Like any parent of a recovering child, I’m digging through my notes, supplementation charts, lists of interventions, and so forth, trying to pinpoint what underlies the improvement. As usual, I have no idea.

Still, I love it when something’s going right.

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