Thanks, ita, I had to post and run and didn't realize I futzed it up.

What Jilli said. My parents had to physically remove the shiny (usually a book) before I'd hear them. That never happens anymore, of course...

That never happens anymore, of course...

Of course not! As is proven by the fact that we spend all day talking to our imaginary friends.

my space-out visual is just a grey fuzz

But, short of determining that no, your daughter doesn't have testicular cancer, the nurse (and the doctor) can't diagnose anything without Annabel in front of them.

I don't think she could even promise that, if a certain episode of House is to be believed.

sad now. Harvey Korman just died. I might have to go stand in Heddy Lamar's footprints this weekend.

Hedley!

Harumph!

I really don't mind if I bump into a kid somewhere and she...says stuff about my chair. In recent years, though, although the accidental "OMG, cripple!" sightings have gotten less...dramatic, as kids see more of "us" at school or wherever, which I think "Yay!" about for all sorts of reasons, there's kind of a new thing developing which I like less. There seems to be this new thing with certain well-read parents that there are conversations which ought to be had, and so I'm often a springboard for, like, The Crip Conversation. Which somehow makes me twitchy, like I'm on a list of Formative Moments or something, and I didn't prepare, or anything. It's weirder too because that's a conversation completely led by the parents: "Oh, um, Snotleigh was just curious about your chair," when that was not the vibe I really get from from little S. herself. It's like they are crossing off Broken People are Really Okay too and they are good to go till she sees the neighbor kid's penis.(edited to put in "kid" so it's not such a heavy context) Somehow it bugs me to be instructive.

Somehow it bugs me to be instructive.

Because it's simultaneously dehumanizing as well oddly this weird pedestal place?