With a little help from my mom 1
With a little help from my mom Like most thirteen years old boys, I had my bicycle, my bat and my football shoes. What I didn't have, were siblings and close friends. I went to the 7th grade. The class was small, dominated by daughters of farmers. One boy had some sort of autistic disorder which made communication difficult. He was busy counting cars and writing down registration plates. The other boy was mostly chatting about basketball, which was not my favourite subject. He had...