One of a kind

We're in the middle of a giggle-fest today.

Elijah is prone to outbursts of enthusiastic laughter, most of which appear to have no trigger and can last, off and on, for a half-hour or more. As anyone who's ever dealt with a therapist might expect, some of his therapists (not the ones described below) have declared this a problem -- something along the lines of "sensory overload response." Further proof of the old adage: To a hammer, everything looks like a nail.

Yes, I suppose he could have a problem there. Or he could simply be a happy child. I'm going with Option 2.

I was reminded yesterday of how fortunate we are, all things considered. Elijah and I were at a local university teaching hospital, where he gets weekly one-on-one therapy provided by graduate students in speech-language pathology. As I was sitting in the observation room, the professor who oversees the program recounted a conversation she had had recently with the student who worked with Elijah last semester and is now in a classroom with two autistic children. The conversation went something like this ....

Student: "It was a rough day in class today. I got kicked, bitten, punched, sworn at and spit on. I really didn't know what I was getting into when I decided to start working with autistic kids."

Professor: "Well, like I've told other people: They can't all be Elijah."