“What’s missing?” The speech therapist looked at my son, T, expectantly. She had placed a few household items in front of him, gave him time to look at them, blindfolded him, and then removed two of the items and his blindfold.
This activity was meant to build his vocabulary and boost his memory. For much of T’s early life, this was a typical afternoon.
He was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder (ASD) when he was around 3 years old, and a cadre of therapists were an everyday part of our lives.
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