A painful reminder of one of the reasons I cut my teaching career short happened Monday. Biting. I hated it during my internship, and 18 years later I'm still not so fond of it. Long story short, one of our autistic patients got a bit frustrated and decided to take it out on us. He's quick too! I'm not at all upset at him. He can't help it. I am fairly perturbed by the dad who didn't even flinch as his son clamped down on each of us. I mean he didn't say a word or even move to get out of his chair either time.
As you can imagine,I had a few terse words for the dad when he asked "Is there anything I can do?" Do you think he's available for slapping each time we brush up against the mouth-shaped bruises on our hand and arm?