If you tell enough stories, perhaps the moral will show up.



We'd come to the view that the more mad son had insuperable difficulty with arithmetic. We tried counting straws, counting up, writing dots, but the idea of adding just seemed to pass him by.

But lately he's been bringing home money work sheets. Ask him for the total price of a watch at 8p and a stick of rock at 4p (really) and he'll tell you. (Actually he got that one wrong, but normally he just stares a little up and to his left and pops out the answer.)

We should have known there'd be no fundamental problem. This is the boy who, still completely mute and detached, and still in nappies aged two, startled us late one night by ordering his magnetic numbers on the fridge door. I expect he just needed the money to give it some flavour.

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