Lego

I remember once sitting in a small grey room, my son playing with Lego in the corner, my ex-wife Mandy beside me, being told by a child psychologist that we had failed to notice Ewen had ADHD. The reason we couldn’t see his “condition,” she said, was because we had adjusted our idea of what normal behaviour looked like.

The psychologist went on to explain that such behaviour — “inappropriate behaviour” — is often genetic, and so can appear entirely normal within the home: the talking, the standing, the climbing and… something else. By then I had drifted off, looking at the Lego, imagining what I would build if I were allowed to sit in the corner.