Last Easter, we attended a packed brunch. The round tables were arranged like a cramped wedding, with chairs so close together that you had to ask someone to move just to back out. It was sardine-style seating.

As we navigated to our table, I had to guide my kids through a maze of meals. All three of us, including my ravenous non-verbal son, made our way to our seats, passing inches away from food on other diners’ plates.

Do you know how many plates Lucas attacked? How many pancakes he stuffed into his face? How many scenes he caused?

Zero. Lucas caused zero scenes.

My 13-year-old son may have autism and struggle with social norms, but he’s a rockstar when he’s with me. Call it bragging, call it pride—whatever you call it, in my house, Lucas is the man. Outside of this house… well, I’m not so sure.

My kids are with me for exactly half of every week. On top of that, Lucas has school nearly year-round. So, he spends plenty of time outside these walls.

You might think that the way he is with me is the way he is with the world. Most kids are like that. Teach your son to clear his plate, and you can usually trust he’ll do it with anyone. But not Lucas.

I hear stories about his behavior that sound like tall tales about a kid I’ve never met. The boy who was inches away from a steaming Easter buffet without trying to take a bite is the same one I hear about dive-bombing tuna platters when I’m not around. The child some people know flies in the face of the child I am positive he is.

Are those stories made up? Are people lying? Of course not. But there have been moments that make my parental antennae go up. Like many parents in my position, I’ve received calls from school that send me into defense mode.

But I’m not seeing any of that behavior here.

That doesn’t sound like Lucas.

What happened immediately before he acted out like that?

Questions are important. Of course, there were always answers, and while I might be ready to scrap at the slightest besmirchment of my boy’s character, I have to admit—there’s a strong chance he did whatever they said he did.

The same goes for the days he doesn’t sleep here. The people who encounter him during those non-Dad hours might know a completely different boy. All the things we’ve worked on here that make him such an easygoing kid might be things that he does. Then again, he might not do them when he doesn’t think they are expected. Heck, I can’t even count on him doing them every time without prompting here. It’s almost definite that he’s letting a lot go when I’m not there to remind him.

I’ve known this ever since he was tiny and I caught the bus matron physically carrying his limp body up the stairs. I watched in shock as Lucas acted like his legs didn’t work and went boneless while this woman struggled to get him on the bus. I stopped it immediately.

Whoa. Whoa. Stop. Lucas! What are you doing? Walk.

He glanced at me with an expression that said, “Oh yeah. I can do that.” And he did.

Lucas does what he thinks the world thinks he can. If you’d rather do it for him, he’ll let that happen too.

This is a nuanced subject. I think about it often because, as a special needs parent, it’s a big part of understanding who my son is.

In terms of chores around the house, I make sure he does as much as he can. Would it be easier for me to clear his plate? Sure. But repeating the action shows him it’s expected.

Giving him independence is important too. I need him to see how I view him as a growing boy. If he sees that I have faith in him, he’ll have faith in himself too.

But what happens when he’s not here and knows he can get away with not clearing his plate? What happens when he’s somewhere else and realizes that laying flat on the ground, refusing to move, will get him out of whatever he wants to avoid?

Hearing about it after the fact might make me want to deny it. How could he do that there when he doesn’t do that here? That’s not who my son is.

But it is. He’s his own person, and as a 13-year-old kid, there are times when he’ll try to get his way. Depending on who’s in charge and the dynamic he’s come to expect from it, he finds ways to make it work.

He doesn’t do it here, and that’s all I can say for sure. My goal is to make him just as wonderful when I’m not around as he is when I am. Is it possible? Sure. Can I do anything about what he does when I’m not with him? No. But I can try.

All I can do is show him the way and hope he remembers even after the door closes. In my house, Lucas is a rockstar. Outside of it, he still is. Just sometimes one of the more wild ones. Party on, kid.