To the mom at IKEA

I understand.

He ran over, pushing and screeching, wanting to play with the same thing as my boys. I mediated, trying to get them to move and let him share. When he got to touch the screen, he whacked it and didn't seem to get the point of it: it was a matching game. I saw you shoot a look at your husband and make a beeline for him. The first words out of your mouth?

"I'm sorry."

You didn't need to apologize! Do you know how many times I've done the same? Breathlessly apologizing when my kids took a toy away from someone else, bumped into another kid, freaked out over something so small?

I told you that it was fine and a look of relief spread across your face. You let him play with my boys. They didn't understand it completely, and after you left, Jack turned to me and asked why your son hit the screen and didn't share.

I knew.

I have been in your shoes a million times. Sometimes it is easier to just take your child and move on rather than face the questions. "How old is he?" You really know what their eyes are asking: Why is your child doing that when he is that age? Boy that is strange behavior!

Do you know how long, how many therapies, how much modeling, how many sleepless nights it took for us to get to the point where my children could share with him?

You didn't let him play long, but as you walked away I regretted not telling you: I understand.