As I've mentioned earlier, David is now taking piano lessons.
I had a feeling this would be a good thing for him. It turns out it's becoming an awesome thing for us both.
Last night, I sat him down to practice. David had spent the whole weekend at his Dad's, and according to his sister, he only practiced once that whole time. I sat him down and let him pick for a minute while I sorted through his overnight bag, looking for his practice books.
Only, they weren't there. His Dad had forgotten to pack them for the return trip.
Oh well. At least we could run his drills - we just wouldn't be able to practice sight-reading the song his teacher picked out for him.
So we ran the drills, and David remembered his finger placement without a prompt. He even found middle C without a bit of help from me, and his scales went off without a hitch. Then I turned to him and said "Well, w'ere done for tonight, Bubby. Your piano book is still at Daddy's house, so we can't practice 'Yankee Doodle.'"
"Yes, we can." He said.
And he proceeded to play "Yankee Doodle" from memory.
Then he smiled and said: "Let me do it again." So he did. And again. And again, in the next key down.
They say that sometimes, a child with autism can find his special place, the place where he can shine. That's true of most kids, I'm sure, but a child with autism often has some kind of innate superpower that can take that shine and ramp it up to another brilliant level.
My son, the supernova.
I'll just sit here and bask in the glow.