In the middle of a Willow meltdown on Saturday, I finally received a call back from Disney. I had muffin batter on my hands, a screaming child at my feet, and it sounded like there was some small animal trapped in the wall of my kitchen.

Wait. Let me back up.

On New Year’s Eve, we had a bad experience at Hollywood Studios at Disney World. Some teenagers were harassing us and my autistic son, partly, I think, because they thought it was funny to see him hit himself in the head when they blew on the noisemakers. We were inside a restaurant, and after we politely asked them to stop and they wouldn’t, we asked for help from the manager, who said she could do nothing. Anyway, you can read about the whole ordeal HERE.

At the urging of a lot of you, I wrote an email to Disney about it. I immediately received an auto-response saying that my feedback was valuable and someone would contact me within 14 days.

15 days went by. Nothing.

On the 16^th day, I wrote another email to Disney. “In case you have tried to contact me and there has been some miscommunication…” I wrote them, and then I gave them my home and cell numbers and email address. Again.

Almost immediately, I got a call back. We were at therapy, of course, but there was a message when we got home, stating that they were researching things and would get back to me.

Two days later, it was Saturday, and I was elbow-deep in muffin batter when a very nice rep from Hollywood Studios called.

Here’s the gist:

There’s nothing they can do about patrons making noise but they’re very sorry that someone didn’t direct us to a “Safe Haven” within Hollywood Studios.

“Safe Haven?” I asked. No one had told me about a safe haven.

Apparently, the first aid stations are quiet, safe havens for guests with needs like Billy’s. So basically, we should have taken our $15 fish sticks to the first aid station and eaten our dinner there, if we didn’t want to be harassed.

Again, I need to point out that the guy who called was VERY nice.

However, if I’m to believe what he said, Disney has no policy prohibiting the bullying of special needs guests, so long as they aren’t being physically harmed. After all, we have the option of spending our day in the first aid station. Who could ask for more?

Again, he was very nice about it all.

I pointed out that they weren’t just “making noise” but, in fact, targeting our child. And whether we had a special needs child or not, is it too much to ask to have a moratorium on noisemakers inside a restaurant? It was 6 p.m., dinner hour, and a full SIX HOURS until midnight. Several people had approached us after we left, thanking us for asking those butt-hats to stop making that racket because they were trying to eat.

“Perhaps next time they could hand out the noise makers a bit later in the evening,” he said nicely.

Perhaps. How long is it actually fun to blow those things anyway?

But I guarantee you that the patrons of the Brown Derby didn’t have to listen to that crap. “Disney positions itself as a family destination,” I said. “It’s too bad if you can only guarantee a family-friendly environment if people are willing to pay top dollar.” We were traveling with 10 adults and 4 kids. Getting a table anywhere was a Herculean effort, and no matter where we placed an order, we were dropping a chunk of change.

He was very nice. He even asked if there was anything else I’d like to add, while he had me on the phone.

I jumped at the chance to tell him that perhaps these “Safe Havens” should be pointed out at the same time that the Special Needs Pass is handed out.

“Did the Guest Services Rep know that your son was autistic?” he asked, super-nicely.

“Yes,” I said.

“Hmm,” he replied, and then apologized for his pause, letting me know that he was taking copious notes on our conversation.

Then I told him that in the best of all possible worlds, parents of special needs kids would also get some kind of more detailed guide to Disney rides, so that they know what to expect in the way of sensory experience at each stop. For instance, the water on the head at the Little Mermaid show is no big deal – in fact, an exciting treat – for normally developing kids. But kids with sensory issues can have a real problem with that kind of thing.

He took lots of notes. He promised to email me back with the status of everything by Friday. He gave me his number.

He was very very nice.

I'm not done with this. Not because we were majorly harmed in any way. And not because I think Disney should be responsible for other people being jerks. Believe me: I have an autistic child and I have developed thick skin where jerks are concerned. (Not really, but they don't usually see it coming when I finally hit them.)

But if they're going to market themselves as the "happiest place on Earth" -- actually, even more importantly, if they are going to market themselves as a safe and fun place for children of every ability to enjoy themselves to the max ... of their parents' credit card limits ... then I don't think it's too much to ask that in the face of obvious blatant bullying and harassment, the "cast members" should be empowered to ask the butt-hats to GO. That's all I ask.

It's bad enough in a place like Hollywood Studios where you do have the option of leaving and going to the parking lot. But is this their policy on their Disney Cruises as well? Can you imagine spending 7 days on the high seas in the first aid station so that your child isn't bullied to tears by hoodlums? I don't remember seeing that scene on the TV ads.

I'd love to hear YOUR thoughts. Even better, I'd love it if you'd share them with Disney ...