Aren’t you autistic, too, Mom?

Alex, my almost-seventeen year old boy (five more days, he reminded me), asked me this today.

I should’ve asked him why he thought his mom might be. On second thought, why ruin the mystique? I venture to guess, though, that Alex is saying that I get him. We’re kindred spirits.

I will never ask Alex why he asked that. We already know why.

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