Ye old swiss cheese

Image via Wikipedia

I've posted before about Diver's "swiss cheese development"; his ability to do theoretical physics side-by-side with his inability to spell.

Last night was Shabbat. I desperately wanted company, so despite Diver's insistence that he was company and no one else was needed, I invited family friends. I was fine with Diver's plan to spend the evening alone with a "Do Not Disturb" sign on his door.

Anonymom gets company. Autistic Diver gets to be alone.

In the middle of dinner (shabbat table cloth, crystal, baked chicken, wine), THUD. Something flies into the room: a piece of paper weighted down with an old squeeze ball. It looks like a ransom note. It reads:

muor chikin

Pules

anD

Bred

Communication that didn't involve social contact. Finally a chicken recipe he liked. And he remembered to say pules*.

*please