No, he's not

Simone and little B were hanging out at the toy library on a fine Saturday morning. Suddenly, little B spotted a plastic mountain toy with ramps emanating from it. A boy roughly his age was sliding a toy train down one of the ramps.

Little B hurried toward the toy but there seemed to be only one toy train and it was in the hands of the other boy.

"There's another train over there," suggested the boy's mother to little B. Her little boy hurried toward it. She grabbed him and said, "No, you already have a train. That other train is for the other little boy." Her son started moaning about this pronouncement.

Little B, undaunted, grabbed the green train and began sliding it down the ramps of the plastic mountain toy. The other little boy grew progressively more upset until he had reached a full blown tantrum.

His mother looked and Simone and, apologetically, said of her son, "He's autistic."

"I understand," replied Simone, smiling gently. "Little B is as well."

The boy's mother frowned. "Autistic?"

"Yes. Little B has been diagnosed as autistic."

A prolonged pause ensued while her son cried and fussed and little B played with the plastic mountain. "No," she decreed at last. "He's not."

Well, if you say so...