Rejoicing over Spilled Milk

Tonight our 15yo came down to get his dad to help him get the rubber bands on his braces. 

"Oh.  And I accidentally spilled a glass of milk in my room."

His little brother, whose life apparently is mostly supported by milk, had taken a cup upstairs.  But hadn't finished it before bed.  Sam had knocked it over and not cleaned it up.

BUT.  He had told us.  Unasked.  With nothing to gain from it.  Unlikely to ever be discovered.

Such a simple thing, no?  Mentioning a mess.  A mess that would soak through a carpet and possibly smell later.  That could damage furniture if not found. 

He hadn't cleaned it up.  But he had mentioned it.  Unasked.

These things that other people take for granted.  That are missed in the verbosity of daily life.  So expected that to not be told could be irritating.  "Why did you not tell me?"

But for us is never taken for granted.  Is remarkable.  Is blog-able.

I feel that I can't convey the weight of such a simple statement, unless you are also affected by autism in your family. 

It was a comment.  It was something that we needed it hear.  It happened in the past (even if just 30 minutes ago.)  It was not part of the conversation.

It was amazing.

And it was just spilled milk.

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