After handing over two million pieces of paper to both the Department of Disabilities Services and the new developmental pediatrician, all of which painstakingly documents Rojo's weaknesses, I was once again struck by how little they actually know about my boy.
Do they know that he is funny?
Do they know that he is deeply spiritual?
Do they know that he can diffuse any stressful situation with just the right retort?
Do they know that he has endeared himself to hundreds of people?
Do they know that he knows everyone's name, how old they are, and what their interests are?
Do they know that if you tell him what's going on with you, he will follow up on that? "How was your surgery/trip/meeting/game?"
Do they know that if he is given a $20 gift card to the neighborhood market for his Confirmation, he will spend some of that money buying his mother a gift?
Rojo had been planning on what to spend his $20 on for weeks - over a month. Finally, on Saturday, he rode his bike up there, took a reusable bag in bright magenta, and executed his plan. He came home beaming from ear-to-ear. "Care, I spent $15.79. They crossed off $20.00 on the card and wrote, 'Balance: $4.21.' I bought a water bottle, licorice, Annie's fruit snacks, Goldfish, and something for YOU! Care, I bought you a present! Are you excited to see your present? Are you excited to see what I got you at the store?"
He reached in the magenta bag and pulled out a pint of half and half. "Care, this is for your coffee! I know you like to put cream in your coffee! I bought you a present! Do you love your present?"
STM walked in during all this, and seeing his excitement he asked, "Rojo, are you more excited about using your gift card to buy treats, or the present you bought Care with the gift card?"
We all know his answer.