I want so badly to believe that the time I invest in advocating for my son is paying off. I love the rainbow and flowers idea that the world is a better place because they have someone as committed and educational as I. But just when I think I am getting somewhere. BAM! The door hits me right in the face, and I sit there, on the ground, stunned for a moment. The news story I watched today:
This woman will not allow screaming, crying, or whining children in her restaurant in North Carolina. This, of course includes children who scream or cry because they have autism. An angry mother is speaking out against her disgusting policy, and this old hag feels "sorry for the mom with son who is autistic", she "can't believe she brings him out in public" and my favorite, thinks the mom is angry because "God or mother nature gave her an autistic child and she is angry."
OH NO YOU DIDN'T! Calm down, Nikki, I think, this woman is an ignorant old fool who has never had children or grandchildren. Think. Nah, crazy old bat. My inner self is screaming at you and kicking you in the face, and painting Olde Shitty's over the Olde Salty's sign outside your door.
See, these are the times I can't get it under control. My decorum is shelved. My etiquette? Screw it. On the one hand, I can see it is pointless to get worked up about. Hell I'm not visiting North Carolina anytime soon. But you know what? The comments that follow from supporters of this piece of trash are just as bad and worse. They think we are preaching, soapbox moms up on our horses of high telling the world they need to make way for our disabled children, never minding what they do, and let us take over the place. They are dead wrong. If I thought like you Brenda Armes, owner of Olde Salty's, then I would ask all the ignorant people to get out of my city, so I can enjoy it Asshole free. Since I can't, and I have to listen to your crotchety old voice saying with a smile "You're one of the few moms that would bring your autistic child out in public.", I will lift my mood by envisioning the day when several moms bring their beautiful, silent, children with autism and she walks over to the table and says "What a lovely well behaved family." And a child, silent as can be, throws a plate of greasy hushpuppies directly at her repulsive, sour face.