So we have an Italian exchange student at our school. And he and I were hanging out and he saw a pony, and he tried to show me but he didn’t know what it was called so he just pointed at it and said “Look, the compressed horse.”
And then he just grinned at his complete understanding of the English language.
Perhaps I want them to wince. I want them to see me as a tough customer, one to whom the fates/gods/viruses have not been kind, but who can face the brutal truth of her existence squarely.
—Nancy Mairs, “On Being a Cripple”