Today, as I was getting Avila ready for session at the Autism Center, she asks if she can bring a snack. “Please momma? I wanna bring a snack. In a lunchbox. Like C*. Like M*. Like other kids. I need to be the lucky one with a snack. In a lunchbox. With a drink!”
So I go about assembling a pack of fruit snacks, a cookie, a Halo, and a sippy cup of water. We put it all in her Trolls tin that my mom got her and Iris from Walmart. We get to the Center and A** greets Avila and notes the lunchbox. She goes, “Oh good, I’m glad. I know you’ve had a hard time with that the past few times I’ve seen you.” Looks at me, “Yeah, a little anxiety.”
EXCUSE ME?!! My kid had been having fucking anxiety over a fucking snack for no God damn reason for weeks and no one bothered to tell me??! What the fuck is this shit?! What the hell is going on??