Throughout the years of writing about my son, I’ve shared about a million pictures of him. Between this blog, social media, and other writing outlets, there has been no shortage of Lucas pictures. However, if I posted a million of them, it’s because I took ten million.

For those who see our pictures, my non-verbal little fella looks like the happiest guy in the world, and most of the time, he is. He greets me every morning with smiles, kisses, and applause. It feels like waking up as a celebrity to one person. Nothing makes me smile wider than seeing the smile he gives me.

Most of Lucas’s smiling photos come from candid snapshots. I capture him in the moment, happy over his device or just in a good mood. It’s why so often, he’s in pajamas or just relaxing around the house.

But when I try to pose him for a picture or get him in front of a landmark, that smile disappears. Instead, he hangs his mouth open and looks at me like, “What?!” I spend most of the setup just trying to keep him from crossing his arms for some reason.

Lukie, look at me. Hands at your sides.

Slowly, he raises them again. I put them back down, and this goes on and on until I finally take the picture and realize he looks like he’s being held for ransom.

There are two ways to work around this. The first is to poke his belly like the Pillsbury Dough Boy, then back up quickly. He covers up and starts to chuckle. Now you know the reason that so many shots with his biggest smiles show him hunched over, holding his tummy.

The second way is to take dozens of pictures of the same pose within a second or two of each other, which is how I end up with ten million pictures. We’ve been doing this for so long that I hadn’t really thought about something I’ve known for years.

Lucas can’t fake a smile.

Last week, I got him a new shirt that says, “We Never Give Up.” It warmed my heart because it felt like the perfect message for him to display. No one pushes forward more than my son. He works on things with such dedication and reaches milestones no one thought were possible.

So, when I got him all dressed up for a day at the park in his new shirt, I tried something I’d never done before.

Lukie, look at me. Hands at your sides. Smile.

He stared back at me with his usual ransom look.

No, buddy, smile. Look. Here.

I smiled at him. He gave me a blank stare.

Here, you do it. Like this.

I reached over and pushed the corners of his mouth up. He stared at me as if I had asked him to fill his pockets with sand and fly to the moon. There was no smile. The eventual image was more of a squint from the sun than a smile. But people won’t know it wasn’t a real smile unless I tell them in this blog.

The rest of the day was rough for Lucas. We went to the park with Lauren and Christian, but he wasn’t having any of it. He sat on the ground for most of the time, and the photos show him either looking miserable or deeply studying a playground mechanism. It’s the classic Lucas look when he’d rather be in bed with his iPad. All he needed was a pair of glasses and a clipboard to complete the “Dr. Serious” look.

That was the day. He wasn’t crying or upset the whole time, but he wasn’t feeling outdoor activities. He rarely does. As his dad, though, I make sure he gets some sunshine in his life. I don’t want him turning into a goth kid by accident.

Most people would assume it was just a bad day for him. Comments like, “He must be tired,” usually come with moments like these. You just chalk it up to a grumpy day and move on.

But once we got back to the car and he had his iPad in hand, I was reminded of something important. He smiles, but only when he truly means it.

Grinning from ear to ear, he hugged me and giggled all the way home. It was the clear reminder that he’s not a grump, he’s not miserable, and he’s not confused when I tell him to “say cheese.”

His smiles are because he wants to smile, not because he’s ordered to or trying to appease me for the moment. Every emotion he shows is real.

It’s one of the best things about having a son like Lucas, but it’s also something that gets misunderstood by parents like me. We get frustrated when they won’t give us a big toothy grin for a random picture, but we overlook what really matters.

My kid is never fake. If he’s happy, he’s happy. He’s not a phony, and he doesn’t even know how to be fake, even in situations where it might be easier for him. Lucas is Lucas, and I couldn’t be prouder.

So every smile you see on these pages is 100% real. It might take a tickle or just the right angle, but none of his smiles are forced. With Lucas, what you see is what you get. It’s a trait that, as his father, makes me smile just as much as he does.