The Color of Compulsion

One of the most startling consequences of Noah’s injury has been how parts of his personality have been magnified.  He was a sweet child before, and he is now the most gentle, kindest soul you will meet.  He enjoyed ordering things, arranging toys in patterns.  Now he’s quite obsessive about it.  I snapped this after one of his (now squelched) 3 a.m. coloring sessions:

Notice how it’s not just the chromatic ordering of the crayons; it’s also the stripping of the paper wrappers and the (functionally needless) sharpening.  He sits for hours at a time at the table, absorbed in these activities.  He prefers coloring to all else; no books or television or games  (well, a few games).

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