One thing people wonder about when they hear I have a non-verbal child with autism is how I manage to teach him things. I know I would have wondered that before Lucas came into my life. It feels like a major hurdle.

In many ways, it can be. While my little guy and I have formed a bond that allows us to understand each other, it’s not a simple task. There are different ways that we have to go about things.

For most parents, showing their kid how to tie their shoes or wash their hands comes with telling stories about your own childhood, tips to get it done right, and even little songs that guide them through the steps. It’s a whole production.

It doesn’t work that way with Lucas. When teaching him a new life skill, I demonstrate, offer hand-over-hand guidance, and then have him to show me what he can do on his own.

To his credit, my little man picks up on the expectations immediately, but it usually starts with a pretty general approach to what was shown. For example, when he first learned to wash his hands, he did all the steps. The only issue was that it was done at a sweeping pace.

The water being turned on wasn’t an issue. It was more about the soap that was frantically pumped without any hand underneath to catch it, and the waved palms under the faucet for a fraction of a second that causes anguish. It all ended with him staring at me, still with dirty hands, and an expression that said, “We good, fam?”

Nah, Butch. We’re pretty far from OK. While the overall idea was there, it was the execution that needed work.

The secret to all of this is repetition. Whenever he went to the bathroom, he was pushed to do it all correctly in the right order. It took forever and, if we’re being honest, he still does that sweeping palm-wave move unless I send him back again. Whenever he returns from the sink, you need to do a quality assurance check afterward.

Somone might read this story and offer the sad face reaction that often comes with tales of Lucas missing the milestones. It’s a “poor little guy” response to an immense difficulty that he just can’t seem to master.

Yeah, I get it. I sometimes feel that way too. I also know this kid and I know it’s not always about inability. It’s often about priorities, motivation, and what he gets from it in the end.

Sure, there are ways to speed up this process. Rewards can be a great way to move it along. Wash your hands, get an M&M. Put your dish in the sink, get extra time with the iPad. That sort of thing is what life skill lessons are built on.

However, even the promise of presents for performance doesn’t real reinforce long term points. Sure, he loves to eat candy and cookies as a “good job” gift for putting his socks and shoes on. The problem is that doing these actions only get him a treat because it’s offered. It’s not something he naturally would get from doing it on his own. If alone, when putting his socks on, Snickers bars don’t come flying out of his feet.

At least I hope not.

If you really want to know, there is only one approach that gets him to demonstrate dexterity that one might think, from the stories I just told, he doesn’t possess. It’s something that he stunningly showed at Thanksgiving.

Lucas likes macaroni and cheese…a lot. When he spots it as a dining option or on my plate, he offers his adorable pouty face and raises one hand to his mouth as if to say, “Please, pa-pa. May I have some of your delectable mac and cheese?”

Through the years, I have either had to either spoon-feed it to him, or watched as he struggled to do it on his own… until I turn away, at which point he will simply plunge his grubby little hands into the plate before sticking his dripping orange fingers into his mouth. Gross.

This year, though, I figured he was a little older. We haven’t tried mac and cheese tasting in a while and now, as a budding teenager, he seemed ready to try it completely on his own.

I handed him the fork and gave him the rallying cry to begin.

Here, Lucas. You do.

And, with that, my son instantly began stabbing each individual piece of macaroni until his fork was full of them. He then gobbled them up without spilling a single one, before swooping in for more. In a minute, it was nearly gone.

For those keeping score, my son went from little Little Mr. Helpless Finger Foods to a 4 star Hibachi chef in seconds. He was eating neater than I was. It defied expectations on a shocking level.

The reason why he seems to struggle with simply rubbing his hands together under running water, but can individually target tiny pieces of elbow macaroni with pinpoint precision is because of the motivation behind it. The fork brings him mac and cheese. The water cleans his hands…and who cares about that? He’d rather dip them in mac and cheese.

This is one of those things I’ve learned about Lucas that doesn’t really have too much practical meaning outside of simply observing it. I know this about him and, because of that, when I notice a skill that gives him an immediate reward, I know that he will do it like a pro once it “clicks”. He doesn’t drag his feet on things that end in mac and cheese. Clean hands? Thats’ a different story.

I guess the most important thing for me is to notice when those things are still out there to teach for adulthood. Sure, he still has life skills that might not be “fun” for him, but those need to be done. Focusing solely on the tough ones can create the false sense that everything is difficult for him. That’s simply not true.

So when we need a “win” to break that monotony, it’s things like fork stabs that give us that push. We’ll gladly pick up those wins…one macaroni at a time.