My non-verbal son, much like me, likes to rub the corners of his eyes when he gets upset. Between the buildups of both sinus pressure and overall stress, it is a relief.

There are two issues with this. The first is that he doesn’t know how to do it himself. I’ve tried showing him how to massage his pressure points, whether his temples or the top of his nose. Yet, he can’t seem to get a good grip. That’s why he gets occupational therapy. No worries, though. He knows that Dad can do it.

The second issue is that it took a while to figure all this out. Without words, Lucas can’t say, “Yo. I just want my pressure points massaged. I’m having a tough day.”

No. Instead, he takes my hand and in one of the most persistent, annoying, and aggressive ways possible, he begins pushing my fingers into his eyeballs. The first time he did this, I thought he was having a mini breakdown.

These acts of assisted-self-eye-poking come during his most anxious of times, so there is usually a lot going on when they happen. The first time he did it, I kept pulling my hand away to stop him from getting hurt, but he was undeterred.

So, to show him that it wasn’t something good to do, I gave in. I let him take my balled-up hand and ram it into his eyes as hard as he wanted…and he did. Then he did it harder and, before I knew it, I felt like he was making me gouge his eye out.

All I imagined was being in the doctor’s office and having to explain the aftermath.

Yes, Doc. My son has a black eye because he took my fist and shoved it into his eyeball.

Oh, yes, Mr. Guttman. That makes sense. Please wait here while we make some urgent phone calls.

Then I’d lose both my kids – not just the newly one-eyed one, but his sister too.

That was a big fear for a while. My son’s injuries are always a surprise and often unexplainable. Much like when he’s sick, the only way to know something is wrong is to observe it.

Often, I have to reverse-engineer his injuries. Want a more recent one? Well, this one was from yesterday.

Lucas and I were walking the streets by our house, waiting for his sister to finish her singing lessons, when I noticed a line on his neck beneath his Scarface t-shirt. It looked like someone had either tried to choke him with one hand or yanked him. I immediately jumped into protective dad mode while I assessed the situation.

It didn’t take long.

That’s because I know my boy and I was able to figure out what it was that caused it. Are you ready for this?

Lucas went through a bit of a naked phase. When he got a hankering to let himself swing free, he’d unzip his blanket sleeper and become a little streaker. It was awful. You’d turn around and see a Christmas ham with arms and legs staring at you. Shocking stuff.

So, we switched to buttoned onesies for bed. Luckily, he doesn’t know how to unbutton…yet. No more naked. No more Ham Boy.

Forget Baby, no one puts Lucas in a corner and it didn’t take long before my evil little autism genius figured out how to (partially) escape the shackles of his buttoned clothes. If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have believed it.

He would bite his pajama sleeve, which he loves to do anyway. The difference is that he would then combine the bite with a yank and slowly pull his arm out from his pajamas. Next thing you’d know, he’d come walking from his room with one arm and shoulder exposed; the onesie nestled under his armpit, like Olivia Newton-John singing Physical. All my little Flashdance boy needed were wrist bands and a cassette player.

As you may have already guessed, this pulling on the arm stretches the fabric on the other side and pulls it sharply against the side of his neck. It leads to that telltale mark that appears to show we were swinging him around by throat in our off-hours. I swear, this kid is going to get me arrested.

There are scratches that take months to heal because he won’t stop peeling off bandages – liquid or otherwise. He has crusty lips that persist despite mountains of ChapStick because he almost exclusively breathes through his mouth. There are phantom limps that no one can understand and seem to disappear within an hour.

A lot of the mystery is exclusive to injuries more than a few minutes old. Luckily, if he gets hurt in the moment, he will come by and rub whatever body part was affected. It’s the lingering effects from things that happened a while ago that require a bit of Dr. House detective work on my part. Those are the ones he can’t really tell us about.

Navigating life with Lucas often feels like guiding a living, breathing Rock’em Sock’em Robot. As a parent, acceptance of his high-energy nature is key. The real challenge lies in discerning the minor bumps and bruises from the injuries that require closer attention. Fortunately, most incidents are simply the byproducts of Lucas’s vigorous exploration of the world around him.

All I can do is hope he doesn’t get me locked up for it.