Yes, that is my son: the one in right field playing with the dandelions instead of watching the pitcher.
Yes, that’s my boy wearing his baseball glove on his head.
Yes, that’s my kid spinning in circles on second base instead of taking a lead.
No, he didn’t play Little League last year. He just recently showed a passing interest in baseball so we thought, “Why not?”
Yes, he was issued a uniform like the other kids, but the material is itchy and he doesn’t like it.
No, I won’t tell him “that’s too bad,” and make him wear it.
No, I did not see your son’s last home run blast, although I’ve noticed he is a gifted athlete. I’m genuinely happy that you take such pride in his accomplishments. You are a great Dad.
No, I don’t know the score of the game, nor do I care (no offense).
Yes, I too was an accomplished Little League ball player.
Yes, I too dreamed the same for my son.
Yes, it sometimes makes me sad that those dreams are probably not in the cards for him. But, at the end of the day does it really matter?
Yes, my son has Autism.
No, I wouldn’t trade him for the world. He is, by far, my greatest living accomplishment. He is my hero… and I mean that on so many levels far deeper than Little League. There are so many things you and your son can learn from him. We are going for ice cream after he game. Care to join us?
This is an original post for Jersey Moms Blog. Jerry is a Jersey Dad and also blogs at BaconandJuiceBoxes.blogspot.com. You can also follow him on Twitter @JTurning and on Facebook/pages/Bacon-and-Juice-Boxes.















