Kevin

Eleven-year-old Kevin is a human tornado. He moves through his house following an unpredictable course and leaving a path of destruction in his wake. Kevin is not malicious, but he is nearly always in motion, and he is so spacey and impulsive that each day is a series of collisions, spills, scars on the wall, and broken objects. Because his attention waxes and wanes, and shifts its focus so easily, Kevin is accident prone. Walking one way while looking another has led to a painful collection of bruises and broken glass; spilled drinks at mealtime are commonplace. Even simple daily routines, such as teeth brushing and hair care, seem to elude him unless his parents remind him and check up afterward; he still has to show his teeth for inspection before going out; he flunks half the inspections, and then needs to rebrush, sometimes more than once. He has major difficulty following directions and rarely finishes what he starts.

Kevin's inattentive, disorganized style makes even basic household chores a challenge. Asked to take his clothes to the hamper after his shower, Kevin is frequently halted by some interesting distraction along the way and, more often than not, fails to make it to the hamper. When his parents ask him to clean his room, Kevin starts, but when they check in later, they are apt to find the room still a mess, and Kevin caught up in playing with an old toy found under the bed, or pretending his bedspread is a tent.