“In a park tucked away in Manhattan Beach, my son was having a blast – running like a charged neuron, taking a frisbee that belonged to an unsuspecting mother sitting on a park bench nearby and waving it over his head like a trophy, while streaking as fast he could away from her. As she got up to chase after him, yelling and wagging her finger, her calls for an apology fell on deaf ears. Of course, her pursuit only made him sprint faster, and to be honest, I couldn’t really blame him. As any mother knows, an object in motion will stay in motion, and there aren’t many things both equal and opposite to that of the energy fueling an eight-year-old boy on the chase… especially one with autism.”
585-730-8888
ddemarle@yahoo.com
