One day there was a small-but-normal-by-height, ten-year-old child by the name of Peter. It was by sheer coincidence of age that this boy was small, and has no plot irony to the fact that the kid's ego was uncommonly large for a boy's his age, and he should not grow into it until fifteen years of age, his ego being five years of age older, meaning that it was five years older than he was. (Confusing?)
Now, this boy was of uncommon appearance, which by no means was better or worse than anybody else's appearance, but different in the sense that you don't see kids, or anyone for that matter, looking like him every day. To make a long story short, his mother, who used to be a politically incorrect drug-addict in the time that she was pregnant, caused her son-by-nature to be born with a rare type of autism called William's Syndrome. (Not a thing to joke about, I assure you, but this William's Syndrome, which you could look up information on at any time, will make one look strangely like a pixie.)
This ten-year-old child, who had slightly pointed ears and a long smile, not only had the rare William's Syndrome, but had a slight case of immaturity. It wasn't quite the small amount of immaturity you might find in a child of his age, but his ounce bit more of immaturity on his part was also a cause of his mother's abusive past. Not only did the mother see the error of her ways and quit drug use, but she went the extra mile (no pun intended), and joined Peace Corps, sure to have flexible hours/days for little (no pun intended) Peter's needs.
Also, Peter had a small (no pun intended) problem with sharing his things, although some things cannot be shared (for example, a kitten or puppy, who has more rights than most humans), which he does not share, and is politically incorrect again on his part. He believed himself to not only be worthy of more stuff than everyone else (no effect from his small height, I assure you), but he thought he was higher on the social scale. How he could possibly be, or think to be, is beside my knowledge; everyone is equal in the democracy, you should know if you didn't.
So far, that's four political strikes against the boy, no excuse to autism. It is in no way better or worse than anybody else's problems, and all should be treated with equality, and being equal, he should act as a normal ten-year-old should, not saying that he isn't normal, because everyone has their unique features and strengths and weaknesses, but all the politically incorrect people of the town treated him as if he needed special attention! And may I remind you, he was no better or worse than anyone else!
The boy, in his naivity, but totally rightful ten-year-old ways, would always play that he could fly. (Not very correct, but quite environmentally safe.) He also believed that he had a fairy, and he made up the imaginary friends; Wendy, Michael and John. These were hallucinations, of course, and were all due to extreme lack of health foods and another mistake on his mother's part! It's obvious that the kid was constantly suffering from sugar overdoses, caused by the lack of attention from his mother-by-nature!
The people of the town, knowing that Peter was equal in every way to them, and that despite the fact that he was a slightly more-than-immature ten-year-old, decided respectfully that he be given only health foods from then on. When one kindly young gentleman (there's no effect of his gentlemanliness, let me say) stepped up to Peter one day and handed him an apple (very politically correct), Peter merely snatched the apple and threw it into a nearby, plot-conveniently-placed trash bin. The man had asked why Peter had thrown a perfectly environmentally safe product into what the trash bin would like to be referred to as, a waste-storage unit.
Peter simply replied; "Hook or me this time!" And he crowed in a freedom-demanding way; as if he weren't already free and his own individual person!
The young gentleman, arriving at an acceptable conclusion that the mother was abusing her child, led Peter to a nice mental asylum (strictly for the protection of his mind against the ignorant and politically incorrect, I assure you), where he spent the rest of his days, eating health foods.
And he never saw the fairy again.
Or the children.
Or the Hook. (Whatever that was.)
THE END
Now, this boy was of uncommon appearance, which by no means was better or worse than anybody else's appearance, but different in the sense that you don't see kids, or anyone for that matter, looking like him every day. To make a long story short, his mother, who used to be a politically incorrect drug-addict in the time that she was pregnant, caused her son-by-nature to be born with a rare type of autism called William's Syndrome. (Not a thing to joke about, I assure you, but this William's Syndrome, which you could look up information on at any time, will make one look strangely like a pixie.)
This ten-year-old child, who had slightly pointed ears and a long smile, not only had the rare William's Syndrome, but had a slight case of immaturity. It wasn't quite the small amount of immaturity you might find in a child of his age, but his ounce bit more of immaturity on his part was also a cause of his mother's abusive past. Not only did the mother see the error of her ways and quit drug use, but she went the extra mile (no pun intended), and joined Peace Corps, sure to have flexible hours/days for little (no pun intended) Peter's needs.
Also, Peter had a small (no pun intended) problem with sharing his things, although some things cannot be shared (for example, a kitten or puppy, who has more rights than most humans), which he does not share, and is politically incorrect again on his part. He believed himself to not only be worthy of more stuff than everyone else (no effect from his small height, I assure you), but he thought he was higher on the social scale. How he could possibly be, or think to be, is beside my knowledge; everyone is equal in the democracy, you should know if you didn't.
So far, that's four political strikes against the boy, no excuse to autism. It is in no way better or worse than anybody else's problems, and all should be treated with equality, and being equal, he should act as a normal ten-year-old should, not saying that he isn't normal, because everyone has their unique features and strengths and weaknesses, but all the politically incorrect people of the town treated him as if he needed special attention! And may I remind you, he was no better or worse than anyone else!
The boy, in his naivity, but totally rightful ten-year-old ways, would always play that he could fly. (Not very correct, but quite environmentally safe.) He also believed that he had a fairy, and he made up the imaginary friends; Wendy, Michael and John. These were hallucinations, of course, and were all due to extreme lack of health foods and another mistake on his mother's part! It's obvious that the kid was constantly suffering from sugar overdoses, caused by the lack of attention from his mother-by-nature!
The people of the town, knowing that Peter was equal in every way to them, and that despite the fact that he was a slightly more-than-immature ten-year-old, decided respectfully that he be given only health foods from then on. When one kindly young gentleman (there's no effect of his gentlemanliness, let me say) stepped up to Peter one day and handed him an apple (very politically correct), Peter merely snatched the apple and threw it into a nearby, plot-conveniently-placed trash bin. The man had asked why Peter had thrown a perfectly environmentally safe product into what the trash bin would like to be referred to as, a waste-storage unit.
Peter simply replied; "Hook or me this time!" And he crowed in a freedom-demanding way; as if he weren't already free and his own individual person!
The young gentleman, arriving at an acceptable conclusion that the mother was abusing her child, led Peter to a nice mental asylum (strictly for the protection of his mind against the ignorant and politically incorrect, I assure you), where he spent the rest of his days, eating health foods.
And he never saw the fairy again.
Or the children.
Or the Hook. (Whatever that was.)
THE END