So, I went therapy at the old CP Center from age 5-12 learning to get in and out of my chair, getting dressed, and generally stretching every damn limb on my body to keep my CP from tightening me up so tight I return to the fetal position. After that, I wasn’t deemed cute anymore, so they threw me out to the cold, cruel world to fend for myself. Such is life.
Of course, in high school, I swam and did weights the days I wasn’t swimming, so I got a good workout. Oh yeah, I’m the middle child, so I had to contend with a younger sister (I love you, Kiddo!) and a big brother, who outweighed me a good 50 pounds, I’d wager…even though I was the aggressor…you know us mean short fries. And, I had the badassest (my word) friends, who thought nothing of pulling me out of my chair to throw me on the floor to wrestle with the best of ‘em.
NOTHING compares to the therapy I got this morning with my CP fingers peeling a couple hard-boiled eggs! Man, the first came pretty easy to give my ego a nice little boost. AND THEN, the second, not so much. Every bit came off in tiny shards with the biggest part coming off WITH THE CROWN OF THE EGG, so that eventually, I just scraped the egg out with my teeth. Then, the yolk came out, leaving the ass end in the shell to, again, come out in little shards.
Still, I defeated it.
Be good to each other.