We do not know when he will be able to tie his shoes.
Or to take a shower, or to dry himself with a towel.
Or to ask for help without shrieking when the wifi on the iPad stops working.
We do not know how he will make it through college (or, some days, even high school).
We do not know when he might be ready to live on his own.
And if he is able to live on his own, whether he will live on Amy’s frozen macaroni and cheese, like that character in that movie.
But last Wednesday, with his classmates, as “La Raspa” played, he was capable of marching in time.
And spinning in time.
And kicking in time.
And circling up in a group.
And of blowing kisses to the crowd when they’d finished.
And of knowing that he could.