That Time I Took Spencer for a Burger
Today I want to tell you a story about a time I took Spencer to lunch. Below is an actual review I left on Yelp for A&B Burgers in Beverly, Ma:
This is one of our favorite family spots. The Sunday brunches are great with live music and a delicious menu. The duck hash is one of my favorites.
The burgers are always good and the crispy onion strings are a favorite as well. The food is good. However, this review is about more than good food and a friendly staff. Last week, my neurodivergent 7 year son and I came here for lunch. He had a half day at school and burgers are one of his favorite foods and one of the approximately 150 words in his vocabulary that he can say out loud. This place is near his school and always a great option.
We ordered our food and were waiting at our booth, sipping on our waters and talking about the music we could hear over the speakers. My 7 year old is a big boy and got excited and leaned on the table. The table tipped in his direction, spilling his water all over his lap and the floor.
It was a little bit of a disaster because of the cold that day and the extra needs I had to navigate in regards to my son. The manager that day was amazing and helped us tremendously. I won't share all the details here, but just know how wonderful it is for a mother and her son to be seen. I've had experiences in public where I feel the opposite of seen. I have felt ignored and a bother to deal with because of my son's extra noise, extra sensory processing, extra requests, extra, extra, extra.
But today, we were given so much grace and attention and it wasn't just good customer service. It was good human compassion. So 5 stars for the great food and 5 stars for the great people. Thank you A&B!
My best buddy, lunch date and favorite 7 year old.
And now, a few things I left out of the review.
After the water crashed and splashed all over Spencer and the floor and his coat, he looked down and using some of his words said, “Oh no.” Yes, oh no was the correct response to this situation. His pants were soaked. It was about 30 degrees that day and I didn’t know if I had another pair of pants in the car.
The staff came over and helped clean up the water. I mumbled that I was going to go to the car and see if I had an extra pair of pants in his backpack. I flung my coat over him (his was covered in water) and scurried out the door. Spencer protested and didn’t really understand why we were leaving. I ran with him in the freezing cold to the car--there were no pants. I ran back and was met at the door by the manager asking me if I found an extra pair.
I told him I didn’t and he lowered his voice and asked what size my son wore. I looked up in surprise and quietly mumbled he was a 7-8. “I don’t know what that means,” he said, “but I might be able to run across the street to the Dollar Tree and see what I can find.”
“I..umm...that’s so nice, you don’t have to do that.” I said, but was also looking down at Spencer and his wet pants, wrapped up in my oversize coat.
He smiled and we walked back to our table. Spencer kept touching his wet pants saying, “Uh oh.”
Yeah buddy, I know. I A server who had helped clean up the water came over and asked how we were. She suggested we could go in the bathroom and use the hand dryers to help dry his pants. I smiled and thanked her for her help. I didn’t bother telling her that Spencer was terrified of the noise of the hand dryers and it’s all I can do to get him to hold his hands under them for more than 5 seconds, drying his pants under them was simply out of the question.
Moments later, our food came. As I cut up Spencer’s burger (his preferred way to eat one, with a fork in bite size pieces) the manager came over and slid a pair or clean, dry, $8, size 7 sweatpants on the table.
I looked up with surprise. I don’t know why I was surprised. I mean, he did say he was going to go out and look for pants that would fit him, but I kind of thought he was just saying that to be nice. He actually left the restaurant, went across the street in the 30 degree weather, and went shopping for dry pants that would fit my son.
I was stunned. He picked up our plates and said he was going to put our food under the warmer while we went in the bathroom and changed. He also said to not worry about paying him for the pants.
As I helped Spencer into his dry pants, I fought back the tears. It wasn’t just that this was an incredibly kind gesture. I felt seen. Somehow, this man recognized the situation for what it was and helped in the best possible way.
I felt like he recognized that taking Spencer to a restaurant is not always an easy thing, but we do it anyway because he loves a good burger and he belongs in this world like anyone else. Like he recognized that Spence is the kind of kid who probably wouldn’t even eat his food with cold and wet pants. Like he saw the look in my eyes of “huh, now what?” Honestly not sure of how I was going to handle the situation.
So that’s what I mean when I say I felt seen.
I changed his pants and we both enjoyed the rest of our lunch. I thanked him for his kindness, left a sizable tip to try to pay it forward and left with a full belly and a grateful heart.
Spencer in with his favorite, hands in pockets pose.
It was a wonderful reminder that taking time to do the right thing, or the extra thing is always a good idea. You never how how impactful your small act of kindness will feel to someone else.
Has there been a time when you have ever felt seen like this? I always love to hear your own experiences!
