24 miles

That's the distance Grafton has covered during his last 3 bike rides, all on the rail trail.

Here's the last one we did together as a family, averaging 8 mph!

 

Candy spot

At Wholefoods, I parked next to a handicapped parking spot. Grafton saw the sign and told me that I couldn't park in a "candy spot".

Snippets

After asking Grafton to brush his teeth yesterday night, he walks into my bathroom holding his rinse cup and tells me, "I'm doing an experiment". (He had mixed soap and water in his cup and was swirling it around.)

Earlier that evening, when Grafton asked me to play cars ("Spy Cars", to be exact), he told me that he would not not be bossy and that I could play the way I wanted to. (This bossy play behavior is something we've been trying to modify lately.)

Another Grafton!

The man in front of us in the GBO airport security line turned around after the security check and asked, "Did I hear correctly that your son's name is Grafton?" We replied that indeed it was, expecting him to comment on the uniqueness of the name (a common response). He then confirmed the spelling with us and then with a look of disbelief shared the nature of his surprise. Namely that one of his three sons too was named GRAFTON!

Shellfish Allergy: Confirmed

We suspected Grafton had an allergy to shrimp, after a Christmas night incident where he purged his dinner. Last night we had scallops. By 10:30pm we knew that shellfish would no longer be on the Kid's Menu at our house. He's doing fine this morning, but had a rough few hours last night. His parents are a little weary as well.

Leather Parchment

Grafton has been practicing his writing a lot lately. He has a minor obsession with pens and paper. Every piece of paper he sees lying around, he asks, "Can I write on that?" Which is nice, because he didn't always ask initially, believing all paper was specifically intended for him (including bills, and such). Similarly with pens, he picks up any one that he sees and walks around with it, looking for paper to write on. (Though we decided to put an end to this practice, to keep him safe from pointy pen tips during high rates of translocation.)

So a few mornings ago, Mom had headed off to work, while Dad continued to get ready. Grafton was sitting in the living room, and requested to watch cartoons. But Dad encouraged him to listen to music instead, and Grafton agreed to some Johnny Cash. With Grafton occupied, Dad headed upstairs to finish getting ready. A little while later, Grafton called up and announced, "I did my letters!" To which Dad responded encouragingly, "That's great! Can I see them?" I headed downstairs to see what he had written, but Grafton was still sitting on the couch. "Where did you write your letters?," I asked my proud son. I was confused when he pointed to the leather couch he was still sitting on. And when he looked up at me to see whether his father was proud of him, he must have been equally surprised by my dropped jaw and gaze of horror. "WHAT DID YOU DO, GRAFTON!?," I yelled out. And instantly he realized that he had done something rather bad. I immediately sent him to his room for a timeout (mostly so that I could calm down myself), and he was already crying as he went up the stairs. I looked down at the couch one more time to read his fingernail-etched glyphs: "AHL".

We had our talk a few minutes later, and we left it at that.  I told Mom about the transgression after Grafton went to bed that night, to save him from another act of parental retribution.

The next day, Grafton sat on the couch once more. This time he got to watch cartoons. And he wore gloves. Interestingly, this was his idea, not mine, and he noted that with these on he wouldn't be able to scratch the couch again!

Written Identity

Grafton has taken the first step towards writing his autobiography. Namely, the ability to write his own name, without guidance, prompting, or copying.