Whatever You Do Don’t Call Me Differently Abled.
“Wow, you’re so amazing!”
The clatter of cutlery hitting fine china plates echoed around the brightly lit room. Music blared a tad to loudly from the speakers. Along with the buzz of conversation from the few hundred people in the room it was hard to hear what people were saying.
So I sat there, cutting into my chicken, wondering if I had heard the woman next to me correctly.
“I’m sorry what?”
The woman smiled and cocked her head to the side, she waved her hand in the general direction of my plate and said, “this! You are so amazing!”
Glancing down at my plate I couldn’t see what was so amazing about what I was doing. I was cutting my chicken up so that I could eat it. I was hungry. As with most of these award events, food never came out until what felt like nearly midnight. This is why there is always a certain level of hangry at these award things.
Granted, I wasn’t cutting my food the way everyone else was. I only have one and a half arms after all — but there was nothing amazing or miraculous about the act. I hold the fork in the food with my little arm and cut with my left hand, place the knife down, pick up the fork and eat.
For God’s sake, it’s not rocket science people!!! Or bringing world peace!
