Drill Sargent Debbie came for her weekly visit yesterday afternoon. Avram is having a little bit of a challenge doing certain things with the helmet on, so she gave us new exercises and some instruction in how to push him this week.
Just before she left, she mentioned that we might want to have Ave evaluated by an occupational therapist. She said she didn't see any problems or cause for concern, but since we are in the process of checking off a lot of doctors lately it just might be worth an evaluation.
And, of course, I immediately interpreted this as Avram never being able to tie his shoes or hold a pencil.
The rest of the evening all of these little worries and fears were bubbling just under the surface, and I kept wondering aloud to J if we should or should not look in to occupational therapy.
J put down his cider, looked me square in the eyes and said,
"Well, personally, I don't understand why he would need occupational therapy. I mean, he's unemployed. We should probably get him a job first."
I would have been committed long ago if it were not for this man.