My father had cerebral palsy. Growing up with a father with a handicap can be interesting. Especially when you are young and kids ask you the most stupid questions. One thing I was always asked was “does he have a job or can he work?” I talked to my dad about this and he told me to tell anyone who asked that question that he is retired. I didn’t know what it meant, it was a ten dollar word to a small child and sounded good. When I was in third grade, my teacher Mrs. Morgan asked her class what does your father do for a living. When it came to be my turn to describe what my father did I said “My father is retarded.”
Mrs. Morgan looks down at me, I remember the glasses and her pinched little face and said “what did you say?”
I said, and quite proudly too, “My father is retarded.”
Next thing I know I am in the counselor’s office being asked questions like “How long have you been mad at your daddy?”
Fortunately my parents straighten the whole mess out by explaining I was trying to say retired.
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