Our two children other than Anthony had a second round of mandatory school testing today. My wife had taken Anthony with her the first time during the week when I wasn't available to watch him. As anticipated, that didn't turn out very well. Today's tests were to take a significant portion of the day, and I wanted to see if I could get more sleep, so I took my chances at home with Anthony.

I put him in his bedroom, broke up some puzzle pieces, and took apart the LEGO's he had painstakingly stacked together by color. Then I closed his door and went to lie down, hoping he would somehow be sufficiently occupied to stay in his room for an hour or so.

I was indeed able to rest for that long, but I did hear sounds that I couldn't quite identify coming from Anthony's room. I decided that the potential risk of whatever it was he might be doing would be worth the undisturbed time.

When I got up, I found that he had pulled out a box of videotapes rendered obsolete by the DVD format and had taken them all out, examining each one. Perhaps because I am used to Anthony regularly creating extra work for us, I felt relief when I learned that putting them all back was the extent of the price to be paid for the snooze.

More interestingly to me, though, was being reminded of Anthony as a toddler. Before we knew that he was autistic, he would sit on the floor, oblivious to us watching him, taking CD's out of a rotating rack. He would look at the front, look at the back, and place each on the floor. It is one of my favorite memories about him, probably because, as a baby, Anthony was as cute as any we have seen. I am of course certain that I have no bias in asserting that.