Dressed up in the perfect outfit for the party. Well, now the canceled party.
It wasn’t Luna’s fault– something came up; she had to cancel it immediately and travel to handle a family emergency. Even if she didn’t spill about that part, I knew the importance anyway– otherwise she wouldn’t have done it. She knew how I’m an event gremlin and how I get when a wrench falls in my plans.
“I really wanted to go to that party.” I murmured, though, it came out more like a sad mumble. I guess it fit the vibe, you know, brooding on the couch.
A familiar, silky voice replied, “I know.”
Mommy always knew. She knew me like the back of her hand.
She was dressed up too, in the most pretty dress that hugged her body so well.
But she was in the kitchen, digging through the pantry to spot something, and the crinkle was telling.
Sweet potato snacks?
Clacking.
Closer.
“But even when life happens, there’s always our favorite snacks to comfort us.” She hummed, offering the familiar, beloved, sweet treat to me.
Sweet potato snacks.
I gave a weak smile and took the red bag, fiddling with each piece in thought before it met its fate.
“Yeah…” I weakly agreed, the whole event–well how I intended it to go, replaying in my head– only for the whole constructed version to crumble, leaving standing outside awkwardly, much like a fashionably late guest who pondered whether they should just go home with little time left.
I looked down and frowned, my eyes scanning the scene around me as if I was looking for something physically, but really I was scanning internally. Trying to make sense of everything and recalibrate. It wasn’t easy.
“How about a date night at that restaurant you love, mhm?” She tip-toely suggested, taking a seat on the cushion next to me.
Sweet.
It was sweet.
She was sweet.
But that wasn’t what I wanted.
It wasn’t what I prepped myself for.
And maybe part of her already knew that.
The lover and logical side of me said yes. You spent all this time getting dressed up anyway– so you should just go out. It’d be fun. You’d enjoy it. She’d enjoy it.
But my heart and brain say no. I never minded being autistic on a day to day basis, I thought it gave me more whimsy and overall happiness in life, but today it was a sword used against me.
Change.
I never did good with change. Maybe I could cope on the outside and enthusiastically go along, but change is the match to the firewood in my chest.
I envisioned how our modified night would go, and the thought of it made my face wobbly and warm until tears spilled out.
Mommy noticed. She always did.
“It’s okay princess, we don’t have to. It’s just a suggestion– I never want you to say yes to something you don’t want.” Mommy wrapped her arms around me and her scent calmed the silent, smothering hurricane in my body.
“I’m sorry– I-I’m just a baby.” I sheepishly sobbed.
Mommy swayed with me side to side as she reassured me, “you’re my baby, and I love that about you, always and forever. Please don’t ever feel the need to apologize about that.”
It made me feel better. Mommy was always so kind to me– like she had a store with infinite love that she built, just for me!
With every passing minute, I felt calmer. Okay again.
“Tell you what, muffin, Mommy’s gonna go change into something comfier, hunt down your pink bunny footed jammies, and then get you all changed. You don’t have to move a muscle, little love; once you’re all comfy, Mommy will make us something quick. Can you pick out a nice comfort movie? Or a show, just anything you’re feeling up to while Mama gets ready?”
A quiet whisper.
“Kay, love you Mama” I replied, nibbling a bit on the communal couch blankie– nibbling on stuff was a tell-tale sign of me slipping into a younger headspace.
“I love you too princess, andddd I’ll be back with your flower paci too!” Her sudden addition made me giggle, kicking my feet a little as she walked off.
Maybe I am a baby, but I’m Mommy’s little baby!
------------------------------------------------------------------------