The Not-So-Happy Meal

Ethan is about all things golf. Golf courses. Golf Channel. Mini Golf. Computer golf.

One of his favorite places to go is what we've named "computer McDonald's." This particular restaurant has a separate indoor play area with air hockey, foosball and Ethan's favorite, the touch-screen computers that include a variety of golf games. The restaurant is located within walking distance of Ethan's school, so we meander over there more often than I'd like to admit.

Yesterday was such a day. As is our ritual, Ethan rushed into the playroom while I got his cheeseburger Happy Meal -- meat and cheese only with chocolate milk and a cup of water. He was already on the computer well into his golf game by the time I brought him his food.

This day, however, there was another little boy around Ethan's age sitting at the computer next to him. Playing alongside this boy was a lady I'm guessing was his grandma. I'm going to call her Grandma Grumpy.

The little boy was playing the same golf game that Ethan was, and the grandma was playing too. The young boy, trying to help his grandma, was explaining how to make the ball go farther. The grandma was not appreciative. "Why don't you just leave me alone and let me play my own way?" she snapped.

Ethan is the biggest cheerleader I have ever seen, and when he realized these two were playing golf...well, he couldn't just mind his own business. He tried to keep his focus on his own game, but the temptatin was too strong. He just HAD to watch.

So he peered over their shoulders. Yes, invading their personal bubble a bit too much. He would comment on the game in his mumbly manner that often only Ethan and I understand. He would jump up and down when a good shot was made. He would shout "oh, that was soooo close" when they didn't quite make it in the hole.

Abby and I observed all of this while cuddling in our normal spot alongside the windowsill across the room. (The sun shines through that particular window, making it the only semi-warm spot in the otherwise frigid gameroom.)

Finally, Grandma Grumpy turned and snapped at Ethan: "Why don't you just let us play it our own way and leave us alone?!?!"

Whoa. Now surely, you didn't just snap at MY son. Every ounce of my being wanted to go over there and let her have it. Nothing ignites a fire in a mommy like having someone be hateful to her child. I debated for a moment. I wanted to tell her that Ethan has autism. That he loves golf. That he struggles with social norms and he is only six years old, so get over it lady. I wanted to. But I decided she probably didn't care and that was her loss.

Fortunately, I don't think the Grandma Grumpy phased Ethan. She snatched up her grandson, fussing at him over something, then angrily stomped out the door.

The whole thing just made me feel sad. I felt bad for the little boy, but even more, I felt bad for Grandma Grumpy. Hopefully she was just having an off day. Otherwise, to get so angry over a stupid computer golf game -- I can only imagine what it's like when the big bad stuff hits.

So as I'm reading back throught this blog, I'm saying a special prayer for Grandma Grumpy that she can have a happier meal tomorrow.