My boy. I love him so much. When he’s happy, I’m ecstatic. When he’s ecstatic, I’m on cloud nine. And what makes him so very happy you may ask? That’s easy! Gravel, sand, grass, dirt, pebbles. Anything he can dig his hands into, roll around in his palms, and occassionally place on his head (that’s a newbie). A sensory paradise. Today, after two days of spiking a fever of 103 he woke up with the widest grin on his face. He was happy. He ate not one, but two bowls of choco balls, had a big glass of o.j. and as soon as I mentioned “swings” and “playground” he was giddy with excitement. He knows, I can feel it, that when he goes to the park with me I will let him be. I will let him get as dirty as he wants, I will let him howl/shriek, and I will let him pull at the grass and stuff pebbles down his shirt if that’s what makes him happy. Because although he’s nonverbal, when he’s happy he has the best way of showing it: He smiles. And I will do anything for that smile of his.