"Somebody Needs A Nap"

Here we go again...Logan has taken his shoes and socks off and thrown them on the floor in Target again.  I know this because as I have walked up and down the last four aisles at least three people have stopped me and said "Your son doesn't have any shoes or socks on" and "poor fella...did Mommy take you out today without any shoes or socks?".  With gritted teeth, I whip my cart around and backtrack (like I do everytime) and follow the trail of ankle socks and tennis shoes until I find them all and chunk them in the back of the cart...no use putting them back on him and pressing rewind.

Just a small list today...deodorant, mouthwash, Tylenol, and a new calendar for Landon's baseball games...shouldn't be too hard right?  I stop the cart to get the Tylenol and as I am trying to decide whether we need extra-strength (yes, yes, yes...extra-strength!) or coated capsules, the head-banging begins.  I hear the first thud against the cart handle and turn around and there he goes...banging away and then the screaming ensues.  I casually put my hand on the bar to brace my baby's forehead from being busted open and continue to look for the Tylenol...no big thing...we do this every week.  Hurry up...hurry...which one...pick one...if you don't hurry he is going to start biting himself!  Name brand or store brand...hurry...before someone sees him and comes over to "lend a hand".  Crap...too late!  An older lady with silvery-blue (yes, I said blue) hair is heading straight for us.  With a slight hunch in her shoulders, she bends down and attempts to look my son in the eyes and he fails to meet her stare.  I continued to look the shelves over...maybe if I ignore her she will go away.  No such luck.

"Hey there, little man...what's got you so upset?  Looks like somebody needs a nap."  She did it...she spoke those dreaded words...the ones that make me crazy.  Uggggghhhhhh!!!!  Lady, it is nine o'clock in the morning...he does not get a nap until after lunch.  I held it in...and swirled it around on the tip of my tongue before I bit down and clamped my mouth shut.  Go away...that's right little old woman...walk away.  I do not need to be brought up on elder abuse charges today. 

I slowly looked over my shoulder and she was still standing there staring at my son and he was still banging and screaming away.  She caught me glancing and then started the lecture...I am sure you know the one I am speaking of...the one I get from someone everytime I take my son into a store.  It starts out like this..."You know when I was coming up children didn't act like this.  If I had misbehaved this way when I was a girl, my daddy would have walked me outside and snipped of a branch of a mulberry bush and tore my tail up.  We knew better." 

Breathe...breathe...breathe...calm down...count to ten.  That's it...turn around and tell her like you rehearsed it..."Ma'am, my son is not misbehaving.  He has Autism, a developmental disability that affects one in 110 children.  What looks like a tantrum to you is actually a sensory meltdown.  But, thank you for your concern.  Have a nice day". 

She wrinkled up her face and turned and walked away.  As she was leaving I could hear her say under her breath..."Autism...pffffft...never heard of such a thing".

Now...where are the calendars?