“It’s seven zero one and cousin Louis was meant to arrive at my house at seven zero, zero,” projected Isaac, ruffled at this familial sloppiness.

So often, he’s as if on a soapbox; campaigning for structures, systems and same-agains.

“I just don’t bloomin believe it!!” he qualified. “I said bloomin, it’s not a rude word. Unlike Bloody, which is. But I’m using it as AN EXAMPLE. I’m not in trouble. Don’t tell my teachers!!”

Before repeating over and over. Same key, pitch and human robot delivery, upped frenzy and frazzle. Until cousin Louis finally arrived at a “very naughty seven zero seven. Silly cousin. What’s the big idea?”

Then speedy forgiveness, his Bon-Ami back, big hugs, squeezes and squeals. Louis, over from Australia, loving this utterly unabashed and different greeting – less laid back g’day, more making his day.

This eight minutes is a microcosm of Isaac’s labour intensive learning patterns. Jam packed with fragment, logic, and his very conscious interpretation of social teachings – more of which later. Information processed, extracted and explained. His purposeful and intense inching along the road of life.

And if the journey through childhood may seem like a balanced marathon to most, for people with autism it’s more Victorian Public school cross country run. Less measured metronome with a keen eye on momentum, more sinking-feeling mud, steeple chases and stitch-stopping staging posts.

The pace of his learning can seem lead-footed, frustrating him and us. But there’s a special flavour to Isaac’s approach. How it stands him I can only conject. But what he lacks in (conventional) comprehension and inference, he makes up in depth and precision.

Take time – which I knew he’d get, in time. As with the Louis arrival example, unreconstructed accuracy trumps all. Flexibility and nuance? Nope, not right now.

I have little doubt that the abstract nature of time will always be his Achilles heel. Hold tight for a few minutes… relax for half an hour or so… see you in about an hour…human chat is awash with approximation and impossible-to-pin intuition.

Whatever Isaac loses with that looseness, he compensates to a certain extent with methodical-ness. Telling the time, keeping to it and planning events around it. His no nonsense, say what you see numeracy skills are based on memory and law abidance.

Mornings for him have become quantifiable chunks that smooth my shabby surfacing that’s for absolute sure:

After a few weeks fine tuning, his body clock has aligned perfectly with his “IPad and phone and watch, they must always be the same” external ones. Night times of late include the same military narration from our ten year old (minor) major:

“Dad, listen to me please. Thank you. I will be coming into your room at six thirty to lie in bed and cuddle. At six forty, bathroom and tooth brushing. Tea or coffee then please for my other parent, my mummy (she will) decide and then Tabitha will be woken by me IF she doesn’t whinge…”

And on it goes. To the minute. The second if possible. Bossy, yes. Charming, sometimes. What I admire and aspire to quite frankly is his ability to attach an actual event to a specific time and be unflinchingly faithful to it. Doing anything – waking, breakfast, leaving for school and summer day camps– will happen at its allocated time. Whether he’s tired first thing – he appears to be rarely – or not. Shifting his sleepy sister first thing can work a treat in these situations or triggers pyrotechnics.

Designating bed times. When to dine. We’re done with dithering. (And his famed photographic memory has acquired an extra element too – he now recalls the dates AND times of pretty much everything he does, places visited, trains travelled. As well as school timetables and travel timetables and more all perfectly, instantly remembered.)

The pros of this life are apparent as are the cons. This clockwork life as and when we accommodate it a breeze; the clockless, laid back one, not so much. Sometimes it’s too much to work within its shackles – for us not Isaac of course.

As ever we bounce between the two, learning from each other – our lifelong work in progress of balancing his obsession for routine with the reality of family life and its foibles.

On the similar theme of rules that typical humans break bizarrely, readily, unpredictably is the flaky business of rude-ish language (age appropriate as often as possible, honest). When, where, how and with whom. The slippery highly selective swearing slope. How you say it. Funny or serious or both. In your own head it’s allowed. Rude words among ones you love is acceptable maybe – which is counterintuitive if nothing else. Hence, always caveating with “it’s an example” is where Isaac’s ended up for now. Whilst stockpiling word upon word he heavily polices himself.

It’s quite a sight, seeing Isaac’s deliberate construction of mountains of knowledge like this – be it time, colourful language, whatever (another example is capital cities and countries needing to be reinforced by distance and language spoken, to make a clear visual mind map in his head; Amsterdam where people speak Dutch with an accent, is the capital of Holland which is an hour from London, the capital of UK. So if UK is 10 hours from Cape Town, is Holland the same or different?). The potential for possessing extraordinary amounts of information is substantial for Isaac. But, anomalies are a nightmare!

Indeed, there’s something of the learning robot about him. In the age of Artificial Intelligence (AI) computers Isaac could be one of the few keeping up with the machine; this little man’s ‘Big Data’ approach to learning, processing terabytes of facts and logic.

And just like the machine, what trips him are the trickier notions of illogical language, rule breaking and things unwritten. Dipping in and out. Fluid and spontaneous conversation. A basic understanding. Ability to summarise. Broad strokes.

In other words, the life skills that typical people seem to learn automatically that help turn them effortlessly into social animals. But whilst the robots and AI computers will always struggle with these types of skills, Isaac is, mainly thanks to his school, learning life and social skills in the way that comes more naturally to him; bit by bit, logically and factually, with real industry. Hearteningly, his recent certificate was for trying to make friends.

And he’s fast becoming a charming robot who, having to be taught humanity, applies it very conscientiously and therefore beautifully. In fact for Isaac, and I imagine people like him, something extraordinary may be emerging. Where he provides a human presence to his AI type learning. Some sort of “third way” or “hybrid” of being that unusually brightens the environment such is his uniqueness.

He’s the galumphing backpacker who landed on earth, chose to explore, and embraced the culture and life with a vim and vigour that makes him stand out.

Where is this all leading to?

Well, he’s becoming, on the good days it’s always worth stressing, a kind of super-social animal. Who has a distinctive lust for life for anyone prepared to listen. By learning humanity, he harvests a less cynical world around him with a naivety, reduced sarcasm, and genuine transparency. Thanks to the studying and building of his human interface – his super-sociability. A computer couldn’t do that, and perhaps a typical human couldn’t either. So yes, an authentic “hybrid” or “third way” of being.

Take haircuts which have traditionally been harsh at best. What with the hyper sensitivity, cramping of personal space, lights, sounds, sitting-still stresses – I don’t need to go on. Yet Isaac now barnstorms the barbers such is the progress shared by him and the staff:

He’s equipped himself for the oppressive experience with a mental manual that means he prevails. There’s the polite delivery of the instructions to the barbers, “I’ll be a good boy if you’ll be quick, thank you.” “Of course, we are the speedy Gonzales barber,” comes the reply. Then there’s the routine of a clean t shirt after the haircut together with bus spotting and request for me to be say how happy he had made me. Plus more dialogue with the barbers always experienced with a crystal clear cheeriness– “who’s the boss here… no beard for me thank you… thank you for the offer of a lollipop, but no thanks.”

Humour everywhere as caused by Isaac’s “hybrid” presence; where an environment that could generally feel judgemental with talking behind his back (literally), wilts. This is the transparent sociability, the super sociability, Isaac seems to be pioneering. Pure honesty, innocence and joy. And achievement, all round.

Then there’s the latest pinnacle for Isaac. An event that saw his super-sociability sizzle. The Bar Mitzvah of Toby, Isaac’s cousin, and his appointed “best pal”. Braving the disco and cut and thrust of secular Jewry’s coming of age celebrations, sent Isaac to the top of the things we’ve been “most proud” of him for. It became hyper physical at times, a quiet zone for iPad absorption was critical. But from the moment he ploughed through the teen throng to hug and congratulate Toby, telling him “how proud” he was of him, Isaac contributed to a special, special occasion. Where he was able to put his new social skills into action.

Shedding teen stereotypes of embarrassment and need for cool, Toby and his friends obliged. In the play, The Bar Mitzvah boy, by Jack Rosenthal, Elliot, the hero, is referred as “the prize exhibit”, especially when delivering his speech, the Bar Mitzvah boy’s true moment. Unlike any Bar Mitzvah I’ve been to before though, Toby gave his speech about his coming of age and what it meant whilst allowing Isaac to stand proudly next to him, arm in arm, sharing the stage. He selflessly allowed Isaac to piggy back his “prize exhibit” role. A heart-warming first, a real one-off.

We enthralled at Toby’s speech, and this unique generosity shown by him. Which was Isaac’s take on what the Bar Mitzvah of a “best pal” entails – a co- happiness where super-sociability shines through. Isaac had demonstrated his “hybrid” way of being, and in a small way infiltrated this tradition with his difference that made the whole place glow.

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