All families should do things together. It?s important that you retain your identity as a family, and enjoy activities that bring you closer together.

As a family, we go to the psychiatrist.

This is my fault. When Little Nutter was diagnosed with autism I was not happy with the statement made by his paediatrician. She based her entire Dx on a rather questionable observation: she said that she saw him ?hand flapping.?

I now have no doubt whatsoever that Little Nutter has autism. I have read almost one hundred works on the identification and diagnosis of autism and autism spectrum disorders – and Little Nutter is a pretty severe, if affectionate, example. However, in all of his three and a half years in this world, no-one else has ever seen him ?hand flapping.?

So I asked for a second opinion.

Memo to self: keep your gob shut.

Anyway, we visited this psycho and his attractive assistant (?BM BS, PhD, MRCS, MRCP, don?t patronise me you sexist pig!?) and they discussed family life with autism whilst taking notes and making the pre-requisite inquisitive observations. (?I?m taking notes because I?m a psychiatrist, not because I?m a secretary!?)

Little Madam was gorgeous. She sat quietly in a corner with a copy of ?Horrible Henry Catches Nits? and giggled.

Tiny Flirt, well, he flirted. He gets terribly jealous, does that lad. Being a son of mine, it took him about fifteen seconds to clock that the registrar community psychiatrist was a bit of a babe, and to embark on the compulsory flirting. He went for the sympathy tactic, and impaled himself on her stiletto heels before wailing loudly. It worked.

Good lad.

And Little Nutter upended the toybox, found a nice model train, and then spent the rest of the hour trying to leave.

Anyway, we have another appointment?