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Yesterday I got mad at you. Why? Maybe because I pretend you are someone else, who you are not, who would not want you to be, who I never liked ... And yet yesterday I got mad at you, for being you, because you don't pick up, because you scream, because you don't mind getting dirty, because you don't stop still. Yesterday I got mad at you, for not being like the others expect you to be. More obedient, calmer, quieter, more studious, more attentive, more educated, more ... Because it affects what others think, what others want, what others expect. The looks, the whispers, the notes, the tutorials affect me. And yet I like you, it's not just mother's love, I like you, I have fun at your side, I love your passions, your desire to live, to jump, to run, to scream, to learn, to dream. Your hunger to live. Maybe that's why I got mad, because I see how peculiar, how magical, how great and wonderful you are. Because I am terrified that others will not see it. Because I see myself in you. Yesterday I got angry, because of your differences, because you are not like those book children that society expects. Because you're not like those perfect kids that other moms tout. Because you are not like those candid children that appear on television. Because you're not like those spotless kids in magazines. Because you are not that obedient, silent and still child in the waiting room. Because you're not that educated, restrained, low-eyed boy from the restaurant. Because you are not that calm and motionless child from your school. Because you are not the student everyone expects. Because you're not the footballer boy in the park. Because you are not the child who eats all the pieces of pepper on the plate. Because you are not, because you are not, because you are not. Because you are not other, because you are. When did I forget that you love as you are without trying to change the other? When did they make me forget that I love you just the way you are, and for that very reason? When did I forget that you are a child? When did they forget it? You don't forget, and be a child as long as you can, and don't pick up, and scream, and run, and laugh, and paint, and stain, and get angry for not paying attention to me, and don't stop still, and play, and jump and fight and be happy. And it grows slowly. Because that is the way. Step by Step. No hurries. A path that we intend to pass on the fly, that you grow suddenly. It grows slowly ... And don't be the book boy I don't like. And don't be the perfect child they tout. And don't be that candid child they expect. Be yourself. Just the way you Are. Moved, lively, laughing, fun, loud, exhausting ... Spectacular. Be the wonderful child I love. The one I like, the one I have fun with. The one who rises to the moon and jumps in a parachute, the one who rides on saloon boats and swims on the carpet. The owner of the command. The boss of the bath, the king of skates. the chocolate emperor. That, the promise of the great man that you will be. Be you, and forgive me for pretending to be someone else. Perhaps the only thing that makes me angry is that others cannot see the wonders that I see in you. Because for a moment I forgot that you are my Hero and that's why I got mad, but I did it with me, because your my life is imperfectly perfect. I love you😘😘😘😘 April 2, World Autism Day. #Tea #Asperger.