IMG_3286I was just curious.  All at once it sort of hit me.  Both of my kids had a ‘diagnosis’.  Did my kids actually know what they ‘had’?  So, being me, I just asked them.

“Hey Jett, do you know what your diagnosis is?” I questioned.

Jett looked up at me with big, beautiful, bright blue eyes and answered “Huh?”

“Do you know what the doctors say you have?” I poked.

With complete honesty he answered “No. What is it?”

Dane ever-so-softly muttered “autism” at a volume that was almost inaudible.

Jett was surprisingly stumped, but unfazed, by what was apparently news to him.

“Well, let me ask you this Jett.  Do you know what your brother has?”

Jett looked up at me with inquisitive anticipation. “What do you mean?”

“Do you know why Dane can’t walk?” I asked.

“No.” Jett stated simply shrugging his shoulders and putting his overly animated palms up to the sky.

Growing increasingly more curious myself, I turned to my baby boy.  “Dane, do you know what you’ve been diagnosed with?”

Dane’s five-year-old face lit up and a perfectly succinct, but slightly under his breath, “Cerebral Palsy”, escaped his lips.  A huge, satisfied smile quickly followed.

“That’s right!”  We cheered.

Turning back to my six-year-old I asked, “Did you hear that Jett?  Did you know Dane has Cerebral Palsy?” I wondered.

“He has what?” Jett questioned.

“Cerebral palsy” his father, grandmother and I chimed in.

“Huh?” Jett asked again.

“Cerebral Palsy. You know, CP.” I put as plainly as possible.

Jett’s face lit up.  “No way!  Dane has CP3O!”

Dane cracked up.  Jett cracked up.  We all cracked up.

Jett knew the difference.  We all knew the difference but what I now know even more is that my boys are more concerned with making each other laugh than understanding what’s supposed to be ‘wrong’ with them.  And as far as I’m concerned, for now, that’s all they really need to know.