Year 8 begins extremely well for Bobby.
Now settled and pretty sure himself, he refuses to take part in drama. "I can't do all that pretending to be someone else stuff," he tells me. "I'm not good at drama". The first bit I can understand, it's part of autism. But I beg to differ with the second statement.
It's a confident start and I decide that it might be nice for Bobby to venture away from the smallest cafe on site, designed for Year 7s, and have a go at one of the other cafes in the school. Partly this is because the other cafes have a healthier menu. The online payment system tells me what Bobby has been eating and it can't fool me. I know that 'stuffed crust' is just a posh term for pizza.
Bobby greets this idea with the same level of questioning that would greet a suggestion that he joins MI5.
"What if I don't like the food?"
Answer: Here's a menu, let's asterisk all the stuff you'll like.
"But what if I see it and I think I like it and then I don't like it and I waste it and then I'm hungry?"
Answer 1: Just go and get another meal.
Answer 2: I can pack extra sandwiches in case.
"But then what if you congratulate me and I don't want to be congratulated?"
Answer: I will pretend it is the smallest deal on Earth.
Obviously trying out a new cafe just like that is a bit too much of a step in a new school year. I've suggested that he just looks at the cafe first.
"But what if I end up in the queue and then I'm FORCED to get some food?!"
You don't have to queue you'll just peek.
I even suggested to the teaching assistant that they did a taster session for him...which they actually might, because it's that sort of brilliant school.
But for now, it's stuffed crusts and 'poshdogs'.