Sometimes I think that Bud and I are so connected that he can actually hear my thoughts. It actually happens quite often, but it still startles me every time.
This morning as I was making Bud's breakfast I glanced at the calendar in the kitchen and noticed that Memorial Day is coming at the end of the month. The realization sparked several thoughts in quick succession: Bud won't have school that day. I'll be off from work, too. We should do something fun. They'll have a parade that day. Bud doesn't like parades - he's afraid of the fire engines. But that was a year ago, so maybe things have changed. I've got plenty of time to think about it later - breakfast is ready.
They were fleeting thoughts that took a fraction of the time for me to think than for you to read.
An hour later I was in the bathroom getting ready for work when Bud opened the door and walked in.
"I don't want to go on the parade," he said definitively. "I'm going to school." He looked at me expectantly.
"Okay," I said. He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. Mission accomplished.
I don't believe this is what Simon Baron-Cohen meant when he talked about teaching children with autism to mind-read. But you know Bud; he's always been an overachiever.