Approach with Caution?

 I was on the play-yard at my sons' school the other day.  SMILE and I were running late and WINK was due out of class any minute. In my rush, I forgot SMILE's lunchbox in the car.  A third of the way down the path, SMILE looked up and stated, "Oh...umm Mommy, you forgot my lunchbox."  He was calm, even giggled (as if to say, "oh, you silly silly mommy"), and I thought all would be well.  But, well, it wasn't.  Sure, I wanted to just turn around and get the lunchbox but we were running late and we had to get to "our spot" in the yard for pick-up before the students were dismissed.

As WINK ran out, I thought I was in the clear.  I turned to my shrieking SMILE and cheerily urged him on back to the car, back to his lunchbox, back to his snack. He sobbed more. "Not to the car!  I can't go back," he wailed. "You go get it, Mommy.  PLEASE!"

I just stared at him for a moment, my hand resting on his shoulder, and let the problem sink in.  He didn't care that he could still have his snack in the car, as he usually did.  He needed to walk with the lunchbox because that had, evidently, become a ritual for him.  I ran through my options. I looked toward the parking lot. No, since the parking lot was at the end of a trail, my car was way too far away for me to leave my boys unattended. Not to mention the very real possibility that, had I left, SMILE would have misinterpreted my absence and thought he was "lost" or that I had "forgotten" him.  I tried reasoning with him, calmly talking between shrieks.  He started pulling and pushing me. WINK kept asking what was wrong with SMILE. I told him I accidentally changed his routine and he's having a hard time right now.  I could pick him up.  No, he's too heavy.  I could pull, drag, yell.  No, absolutely not.  I scanned the yard. No one I knew by name (new school) and no one made eye contact. 

It took me twenty minutes to get SMILE out of the main yard.  I finally got him to a point (inch by inch) on the path where he could see some yellow posts on the edge of the parking lot.  I figured if I could get him to those, I could run to the car, grab the lunchbox, bring it back to him, and all would be well.  I proposed the option to the tear-streaked little face that was looking up to me (begging me, I know, to figure this out).  He said "yes" and the tears instantly stopped.  I left my boys by the posts, sprinted to my car, and was back in under a minute.   And all was well. SMILE laughed the entire time he ran through the (by then) vacant parking lot.

But...here's what I don't understand. SMILE wears a bright blue parka when it rains.  He spins. He covers his ears. It's pretty obvious that there's something going on with the little man.  Even if people don't think or know I am (he is) dealing with autism, it's clear that he's having an irrationally big reaction to something small. Why didn't anyone approach us?  I'm not taking it personally.  Really. I truly think that people probably felt helpless and didn't know what to do. But I'm just wondering why people feel embarrassed to offer help.  I have been in the position of the observer before and I know I've felt that way.  So, I've done nothing.

But not anymore.