Dear Sweet Old Lady at Walmart,

My son is autistic. I have been his mother for six years, and while his behavior may catch you off guard, I assure you, I have things under control.

I am sure that you panicked when you saw a 6-year-old running for the outside door. What you didn't see earlier was how much he loved the Mickey Mouse ride-on that is right next to that door. Your exclamation of "Ooh, ooh, ooh," caused me to lose sight of that fact and panic.

Then, when you asked if I needed help, well, it sent me over the edge.

Ma'am, I do need help. I am an Army wife. Right now, I am a single mother of three. I have just sent my sweet soldier back to Afghanistan. But, I confess, the help that you can provide is probably not what I need.

I need more energy to manage an autistic son who is off his schedule. I need more money to get a sitter every time I need to go to the store. I need more patience to deal with stares and comments from people who are uninformed or have forgotten what is like to be in my particular situation. I might even need an adult beverage (or several).

In any event, I must thank you all the same. Thank you for making me feel like a bad mom. Thank you for questioning my ability to manage my situation. Thank you for reminding me with pinpoint accuracy that my life sometimes just stinks.

Thank you.

I think I would have forgotten for a moment if you had not reminded me.

Ma'am, all I ask of you is that next time you take a breath before you speak. Normally, my feelings don't sit that close to the surface. But that particular day, you performed a Mexican Hat Dance on them and all I could do was walk away with a sting in my heart.

Sincerely,

Sarah B Young

An Army Wife Doing Her Best