Imagine you are five or six years old and one of your classmates comes up to you and says “look at my Tonka truck!” How do you respond? a. “I have a helicopter” b. “I want some cookies” c. “My mom is mad at me today” d. “I rode a horse at the fair” e. “That’s a neat truck! Can I hold it?”

“I was so used to living in my own world that I answered with whatever I had been thinking. If I was remembering riding a horse at the fair, it didn’t matter if a kid came up to me and said “look at my truck!” or “my mom is in the hospital!” I was still going to answer, “I rode a horse at the fair.” The other kid’s words did not change the course of my thoughts. It was almost like I didn’t hear him. But on some level I did hear, because I responded. Even though the response didn’t make any sense to the person speaking to me.”

A family acquaintance is visiting your home. She tells your mother about the death of a neighbor’s son who was hit and killed by a train while playing on the tracks. You do not personally know the neighbor or her son. How would you react? What would you say or feel?

“I smiled at her words…I knew they thought it was bad for me to be smiling, but I didn’t know why I was grinning and I couldn’t help it. I didn’t feel joy or happiness.” “I didn’t know Eleanor. And I had never met her son. So there was no reason for me to feel joy or sorrow on account of anything that might happen to them. Here is what went through my mind that summer day: Someone got killed. Wow! I’m glad I didn’t get killed. I’m glad Varmint or my parents didn’t get killed. I’m glad all my friends are okay. He must have been a pretty dumb kid, playing on the train tracks. I would never get run over by a train like that. I’m glad I’m okay. At the end I smiled with relief.”

“Asperger’s is not a disease. It’s a way of being. There is no cure, nor is there a need for one.” -John Elder Robison