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"After all, tomorrow is another day."--Margaret Mitchell

Yesterday Cliff refused to get on the van to go to work. It is always puzzling when he does things that go against his routine. While the rest of us rail against the predictability and sameness of Monday through Friday, Cliff thrives on it. While some of us wish we could just hit the lottery and never have to work again, my son looks forward to seeing friends, arriving to fanfare in the building where everyone is happy to see him. There are no office politics or cliques or frowning bosses. There are sign language classes and dance group, a workout room and a Wii. There is work that is meaningful and engaging. Did I mention there are girls?

At 8:15, as the bus driver waited in our driveway, I reminded Cliff of all the wonderful people and activities that awaited him, to no avail. Here’s part of the conversation:
“Cliff, the bus driver is waiting. Time to go to work.”
“No!”

“What’s the matter? Do you need to use the bathroom first?”
“No!”

“Are you sick? Do you have a headache?”

"No!”

 “Don’t you want to see your friends in Plainville?”
“No!’

Perhaps you see a pattern emerging here? Outside, I approached the van driver, Gidget, and told her what had transpired. She suggested that perhaps he just needed a day off.

Now that is something I hadn’t considered.

Back inside, Cliff was listening to his iPod, dancing around the family room at a frenetic pace, perfectly fine. Not sick. Not tired. Not anything but joyful. Gidget may have hit on something. He did a lot of nothing yesterday, and the world didn’t stop. There were no regrets. His demeanor was that of someone who had just exercised his right to choose.

So what do I make of this day? Just because he doesn’t communicate particularly well, doesn’t mean he has nothing to say. Just because he doesn’t want to go to work occasionally, doesn’t mean he’s sick or tired, or that something is wrong.  Maybe, just maybe, Cliff Taylor wants a day off in the summertime, free to dance around the family room.

And really, how different is that from you and me?