For my non-verbal son with autism, the excitement of gifts doesn’t come from the unwrapping or surprise. Sometimes it doesn’t bring excitement at all. He just loves his tablet and Pirate Booty.

Don’t get me wrong, he likes other things too. Leapfrog toys, books, and singing dolls have all been a big part of his life. In the absence of an iPad, he’ll happily thumb through the pages of a board book or watch as an Elmo doll dances for his entertainment. Lucas can be well-rounded when he wants to.

So, when Christmas or birthdays come around, one would assume that a present like these would go over huge, right? Well, you don’t know Lucas.

At a young age, my son showed us that he has no desire to unwrap anything. Unwrapping does nothing for him. He sees it as a chore, and it took years to even get him to try.

We learned it with confused relatives and impatient family friends watching with bated breath as he was forced to appease their unwrapping desires. Hand-over-hand, I’d have him pull apart the paper through annoyed whines. Each rip was done with one foot ready to sprint him away. It took everything just to reveal the toy inside.

When we would, I would usually be impressed. Rarely were the gifts things I would think he would hate. Electronic light-up devices and characters from his favorite show were always waiting just beneath the paper. I’d smile as these gift-givers, hunched over like Johnny Bench, waited for my boy to jump for joy.

That didn’t happen. Instead of jumping, he’d run away to find his iPad.

Some people understood. Some didn’t. Either way, I’d be the one thanking them. The toy would then go on to be ignored until long after the holiday ended. That’s when I’d hear the sounds of it ringing from his room. I’d go in and ask the same question every time.

You couldn’t have done that when they were here, buddy?

Even as his parent, I run into this issue. Gift ideas aren’t easy and Lucas isn’t overly adventurous. Buying something he’s unfamiliar with is a gamble. For the most part, he doesn’t care.

There have been “autism toys” that experts promised would save the day. Weighted blankets, stretchy bodysuits, and scooters that they swore he loved at school have all come and gone from our home. None of them made an impact.

He doesn’t want the types of things I might think he likes. The most successful approach is to just get him more of what he already likes.

Confused? If it sounds like I’m contradicting myself, I’m not. I’m not saying that I need to get him presents in the same category of things he likes. I’m saying I get him the exact things he already likes.

Lucas has gotten the same Frog and Friends book Christmas for years. Complete with chirping Frogs and thick pages, he goes through it at a breakneck pace and usually ends up mistakenly tearing it apart. So, he keeps getting new ones.

Tablets appear under our tree too, but even those have to be the same ones he currently has. Trying to diversify his iPad selection is a good way to lose out on $200. Finding him the same exact one he’s already swiped to death is usually the best option.

Even these can be a risk. Some mornings, Lucas just isn’t feeling it. He’s up and just wants to lay on the beanbag with his YouTube videos. It doesn’t matter if it’s a birthday, Easter, or Christmas. To quote the Little Orphan Annie street gang, Santa Claus? What’s that? Who’s he?

At 13, my boy has given me time to get used to this response. I laugh it off and try to give him space when he turns his nose up at a gift I was positive he would love. Rather than push it on him in that disinterested moment of receipt, I introduce it over time. The best reactions are usually garnered through patience and time. If it’s really about Lucas and not me, it’s important to respect that aspect of his personality.

When he was younger, though, it was a tough thing to accept. No parent wants to spend weeks preparing a holiday bounty for a kid they love, only to feel it was wasted. I’d beat myself up for finding the wrong toys or guessing the wrong things. It wasn’t a Merry Christmas in the face of what I perceived to be a parental failure.

Just like getting him to accept the gifts themselves, learning that his apathetic responses aren’t an indictment of my gift-getting took patience. I had to remove my own ego from the situation and accept that my child just doesn’t do presents the way I do. It’s another unique aspect of who he is and how autism may affect his personality.

In many ways, it’s amazing. We all want kids who aren’t obsessed with gifts and money. I have one. Sure, it might be an extreme version, but it’s still a non-greedy kid nonetheless.

He didn’t need to change; I did. My perspective on gifts—and giving—had to shift. My boy is perfect just as he is. That’s the best present I could ask for.