"My dog ate my homework." That's the classic excuse for schoolwork being unfinished. But how about, "my brother ripped up my homework"? Our daughter was privileged to use that one recently.

Anthony is going through a stretch of shredding most any paper or cardboard he finds. Unfortunately, his room has contained several items that fall into that category. It is one thing to try to rid the area of stacks of unwanted telephone books, but another to replace cardboard boxes storing various items. Even more aggravating has been discovering old videotape boxes--that we did not know existed--torn to pieces and lying all over the bed and floor.

In addition to this compulsion, he also lately takes articles of clothing off the hangers in the closet and drops both clothing and hanger to the floor. I never knew how much was actually in one closet until I tried picking everything back up.

I imagine neither of these activities, either by themselves or combined, sound particularly distressing, and, certainly, picking paper off the floor or re-hanging clothing do not of themselves really test our patience. We are probably just tired--tired of one more thing he does that depletes our time and energy, tired of seeing him doing it several days in a row, and tired of knowing we will likely be cleaning up again and again until we can find resolutions to prevent him from doing it.

I am not in the mood to write, but I would be remiss to not record today's events.

I had been at work for a little more than an hour when my wife called. After some agitation and resistance to getting ready to go this morning, Anthony slammed his head into her and bit her finger as she tried to take him out to the school bus. The bus driver was brave enough to venture letting him board, but her courage was rewarded with a laceration to her face when he went after her as well.

The driver called the police to intervene--I am guessing that is standard procedure. They came and handcuffed him temporarily to subdue him. When my wife told me that over the phone, the dark humor in me produced the thought, "my son is a criminal, " but I knew the police did it only as a precautionary measure. Paramedics also came, and one of them actually remembered Anthony from the events of a year ago and was quite understanding. I of course hope there are no future incidents for Anthony to be remembered yet again.

Anthony was apparently hitting his head so hard inside the bus that the paramedics were concerned for his own safety, and asked my wife if she wanted him taken to a hospital for examination. Our own view of this is that he is probably not hurting himself. We have noted in the past that if he causes himself enough pain, he stops.

My wife asked me to come home, but not so much because she thought she could not deal with Anthony. She had actually scheduled a training she was conducting for parent volunteers for the elementary school art program she co-ordinates, and simply could not reschedule because the first class teaching sessions start tomorrow.

By the time Anthony calmed down, his school principal and primary aide had arrived on the scene as well--I am increasingly convinced there is not a more thoughtful special-needs school staff to be found anywhere. They determined that Anthony was past the stage of being a significant risk at school, and his aide agreed to sit by him on the bus--another had come to take the other children--so he could attend.

However, the resolution seemed a little quick for my liking and, since I already told my boss I was taking the rest of the day off, I thought it appropriate to pay the staff a visit to discuss the situation. I am glad that I did. Although Anthony's teacher agreed that he is often fine after a major incident, there is always the chance that whatever is pent up in him has not been exhausted.

There were no further outbursts after I collected him, but that might be attributable to him being with me. He was clearly still a bit worked up. Sadly, the difference between whether he ultimately goes off is sometimes dependent on his perceived ability to injure: he may act as though he wants to hurt someone, but if he doesn't think he can do it (or if he knows that person can retaliate), he does not attack.