This issue springs up every few years.

This issue springs up every few years.
People grow. He’s a person. He grows.
It’s my job to give him every opportunity I would want myself.
Verbal or non, autism or not, kids are kids.
I don’t hide my scars. I wear them proudly.
My kid needs me. I owe him.
I’ll always be proud of him, even if this phase doesn’t last.
I’m never surprised. I’m never let down.
How terrible must that be for him?
I endured the rest of the class in stunned silence and never came back.
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