I Found Myself in a Real Food Fight at Whole Foods

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I’m not particularly proud of my behavior that day. Throwing food in public is never an acceptable action. However, before you pass judgment, let me explain my situation.

My son is on the autism spectrum and faces behavioral challenges associated with his condition. While he may not always have the best role model (like a mom who throws food, for instance), he has neurological differences that complicate even the simplest outings, like a trip to the grocery store.

Every Sunday, I take my two boys—my six-year-old on the spectrum and my three-year-old—to Whole Foods for breakfast. This routine helps both of them practice public behavior. Plus, the scrambled eggs at the breakfast bar are the only ones my older son will eat.

Before we step inside, we go over our ground rules: calm voices, safe hands, and stick together. Yet, as soon as we enter the store, those reminders seem to vanish with the rush of cool air from the automatic doors.

Something about Whole Foods triggers my son. Perhaps it’s the bright lights, the high ceilings, or the colorful packaging on the shelves. Children on the spectrum, including my son, are often hypersensitive to sensory stimuli.

Almost immediately, his energy spikes. His feet move faster, his arms flail, and he makes loud, random sounds that echo throughout the store. We attract stares—not the sympathetic glances I used to receive when he was a toddler, but disapproving looks that convey one clear message: Control your child.

What these observers don’t realize is the extent of my efforts to manage his behavior. It’s practically a full-time job that involves therapy sessions, behavioral strategies, and reward systems to help him learn self-control.

Maybe it was the feeling of being judged that fueled my reaction that morning, or perhaps I was simply exhausted from the ongoing challenges of raising a child on the spectrum. Whatever the reason, I was at my breaking point.

The incident occurred at the oatmeal bar. I was supervising my son as he tried to serve himself. His excitement was palpable. He filled his bowl with oatmeal and eagerly hovered over the toppings.

I noticed a man behind us, standing too close and huffing in impatience. A quick glance revealed a tall figure with a menacing red face and a moustache. He turned to my son and said, “Slow down.”

I have little patience for people who intimidate others, especially when they target my child. “Don’t talk to my son like that,” I interjected.

“Stick it in your ear, Ma’am,” he retorted.

“Excuse me?” I replied, surprised.

He leaned in, speaking slowly, “Stick – It – In – Your – Ear­–Ma’am.”

At that moment, I realized that I should have walked away. The man could have been dangerous, and my children were watching. I mentally repeated my own mantra: Calm voices! Safe hands! Stick together!

But then, with his lidless bowl of oatmeal precariously placed on the edge of the bar, I lost it. I nudged it, and it crashed to the floor. “Sorry, I seem to have knocked over your oatmeal,” I said, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

“Security!” he yelled, “I’ve been assaulted!” He stormed off, only to return a moment later, reaching into my cart and throwing a large box of scrambled eggs across the floor.

The shock silenced my boys. We all stared in disbelief. Uh-oh, I thought. This is spiraling out of control. We needed to leave.

As we exited, I quickly informed the cashier, “That man just threw eggs all over the floor.”

I’m not proud of my actions. They contradicted the message I strive to convey to my children: that we should make good choices, even when others don’t. I was too embarrassed and frightened to stay and clean up the mess.

What I took away from this experience was the importance of self-care. I need to find healthier outlets for my stress, whether that means seeking therapy or trying something like kickboxing.

And for the onlookers, the lesson is simple: give my son the space to be himself. Yes, he can be loud and disruptive. He may even accidentally knock over a display of loofahs or incense sticks. But he is doing his best, and so am I.

In closing, it’s crucial to remember that parenting is a challenging journey, especially when navigating the complexities of autism. For those seeking more insights on fertility and parenting, check out this resource about fertility insurance. And if you’re interested in boosting fertility, consider exploring these supplements. For an excellent at-home insemination kit, visit this link.


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