On Sunday morning, I woke up remembering that I’d promised the boys we’d go for donuts. I was Army Wife this weekend so it was just the 3 boys and myself.

The boys were not keen at all on the idea of going to a grocery store to pick out donuts. They wanted to go to a real donut place (probably because that removed the chance that any shopping would be a part of the adventure) so we headed to Lamar’s. Apparently everyone else in the area had the same idea. The line stretched outside of the tiny shop.

Adam was already a little edgy because I’d nixed the idea of allowing him to bring his favorite toys du jour (plastic, light up spiders, don’t ask) out of the car and honestly, I’m not quite sure why I nixed the idea in the first place.  In fact, I sent Logan back to the car to get them and once they were back in Adam’s possession, we actually waited in line like normal people, free of drama.

That is, until an overly friendly gentleman standing behind us couldn’t resist bending down to Adam’s level, getting right up in his face and bellowing, “HEY THERE BIG GUY!! WHAT DO YOU HAVE THERE?! SCARY SPIDERS, HUH? HOPE THEY DON’T BITE YA!”

I wish sometimes I could hang a sign around Adam’s neck that read  I have autism. I like to be left alone. Maybe I’d even go into more detail. Something like Because I have autism, I have trouble keeping it together in public places. I’m trying to do what I’m supposed to do, but it’d be best for all of us if you’d refrain from getting in my face and talking loudly.

The sign would have been helpful because after that man got in Adam’s face, we weren’t Lamar’s customers anymore, we were prisoners in Spectrum Meltdown City. Adam became completely unglued, throwing his spiders at the man, running up to the donut case and banging his head on the glass. After several “Oh Mys” from the other patrons, most eyes turned to me, looking to see how I’d handle the situation.

Here’s where I needed my own sign. It would read My son isn’t an undisciplined brat, he has autism. I’m not a bad mom, oblivious as to how to handle my kids. If that were either of my two other normal children, you betcha they’d never act like that again after I was through with them. The rules are different with Adam. The best I can hope for is that this line will move quickly. Sorry for the trouble. You have no idea how sorry.

Truth be told, the whole event lasted about 5 more minutes, even though it felt like an hour. We got our donuts (a dozen of them, all covered with all kinds of crap. Clearly Logan and Ryan took advantage of the situation!) and were rung up quicker than you could say long johns, as the cashier was smart enough to see the sign that read GET US OUT OF HERE NOW!

Back in the car, headed home on a beautiful fall morning, all was calm, all was bright, spectrum meltdown a thing of the past. I had three happy boys with visions of donuts dancing in their heads.

And on the radio, the song Wonder by Natalie Merchant began to play.

Was that a sign?

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