Sneaky Pete

Part of Tysen's afternoon routine is a 15-minute walk. Electronics? Not until that’s done! Usually, he hops on the treadmill, but today he announced he was walking to the park and back. For context, the park is a straight shot—two blocks away. We’ve walked this route a million times in the past ten years, so naturally, I thought he’d nail it. But let’s be real: he’s never done this solo before. 

After I practically shoved his phone into his pocket—so he could call me if he needed to, and, let’s be honest, so I could keep tabs on him *wink, wink*—he headed out the door like he was off to conquer the world.

I nervously paced the house with the dog and cat. I peeked out the front door to make sure he took the right turn onto the sidewalk. Check! He was confidently turning the corner, headed toward the park. Proud mom moment? Oh, you bet!

But then I waited a few moments, just to confirm he didn’t go off the rails at the first street crossing. I crept down to the corner, and there he was, making it to the park's edge—the spot we discussed where he’d touch the grass and turn around. Spoiler alert: he didn’t stop. He just kept walking right past the park and into the neighborhood.

Ok, ok. This is ok. Surely, he will turn and go around the park and not into the neighborhood. Nope! No such luck. Once he slipped just behind the house on the corner, I sprinted down the street in my birkenstocks, (that's mid-life-mom for "jogged"). I stuck me head around the house, expecting to see Tysen, but he wasn't there either.

I felt my stomach drop. "F*CK," I mouthed. Great, this is going to be the headline: “Mom Loses Son with Down Syndrome on First Solo Expedition.” 

Trying to keep my cool, I told myself not to panic...he was probably just around the next corner, right? But today, Tysen was moving like he had somewhere important to be—definitely not the usual pace of a great grandpa snail. By the third corner, I finally caught up to him, and he realized he’d taken a wrong turn and was heading back the right way.

THANK YOU, SWEET BABY JESUS!

I ducked behind a fence, trying to look like I wasn’t tracking him like a hawk. But of course, my stealth skills were lacking, and he spotted me...'cause ya know...mid-life. He ran over, gave me a hug, and declared, “Sonic, mom!” Because clearly, he was on his way to get fast food instead of returning home like I thought.

For the love of all that is holy!

He was indeed headed in the right direction—just the Sonic route we take through the neighborhood. 

And this, friends, is why I always have a tracker on my little Sneaky Pete and why I will never doubt his ability to navigate the world. Cheers to that! 🥂🫠