Like many kids his age, Bryce Goldblatt would spend all day at the playground if he could. There’s a small one near his townhouse in Gaithersburg, with just a slide and a rock climbing wall, and if his parents let him, he would run and play there until he was too tired to move. If he falls, he gets up and keeps going—he could get hurt and he wouldn’t even notice. When it’s time to go home, he often pulls on his mother’s hand, trying to get her to turn back.
Bryce, 6, also loves the beach and the pool. And pancakes, peekaboo and his little truck book. The more bubbles in his bath, the better. Everyone who knows him talks about his smile. He likes waterslides, unhooking the straps on his car seat, shopping at Wegmans and chasing his 9-year-old brother, Bennett. If somebody hides the TV remote, he’ll find it. In preschool, he used to give his Goldfish pretzels to a classmate and then take that little boy’s egg rolls.
But Bryce won’t sit down and play with a toy or draw a picture. He doesn’t get excited for his birthday or Halloween. He watches three shows—Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, Bubble Guppies and The Fresh Beat Band—but only the same episode of each, over and over again. He has to be buckled into his chair for meals, and has trouble using a fork or spoon.
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