I Know What I Know

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In Which I Can’t Always Get What I Want

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I don’t write about disability very often, mostly because I don’t think about it that much. I don’t have the kind of disability that I have to really confront all that much on a day-to-day basis. I mean, sure, it’s not like it’s something that really easy to ignore; it’s just that it doesn’t radically affect my life all that often in ways that are frustrating or bothersome. Sure, sometimes, when I’m trying to drive a nail, get a screw started, play a game on the Wii, or really do anything that would be easier if I had two hands, I’ll get really frustrated and yell a lot.

But for the most part, until something like that happens, I don’t think about it much at all. Of course, now that I think about it, I have no idea if almost every other disabled person feels this way. Do we all just sort of muddle through our lives without really thinking about this stuff all that much?


Shelley teaches tonight, and so I’m responsible for dinner. She wanted chili from the Smith’s near campus.

No problem. Except that it’s cold and rain/snowing and everything is wet and slippery and just nasty. I don’t want to go outside. I just want to change out of my wet Carharts and start a fire and warm up.

But Shelley wanted chili.

The store with the chili is not the closest to our house. There’s also no way I can get there via backroads, so I had to drive across town in the slush and the wet and the cold with all the other Utards at 5:30 driving down the main street in town.

When I got to the store, I grabbed one of those handheld baskets and made my way around to the vegetables, which is where the chili is. We’d had it once before while my mother was here around Christmas. Mom and I had gone to pick up a few things and, while I was grabbing some vegetables, she showed up with a little container and said “I’m havin’ chili!”

So we knew it was good stuff.

I walked over to the chili “station”–one of those stands with a ladle and a sneeze guard and a deep pan of soup sunk into the cabinet. You know how it is. You grab a container and ladle in the soup.


The ladle is really long. And the sneeze guard is really low. I grabbed a container and, like I always do, placed it near the soup. I grabbed the ladle, filled it with soup, and as I tried to pour it into the container, hit the sneeze guard from below. I tried several angles, but the take away is this:

there was no way to pour the soup into the container unless you held the container with one hand and the ladle with the other. I can’t do that. I can only hold the ladle. So I didn’t get chili.

I really wanted chili.


Written by srogers

January 19, 2012 at 1:39 am

Posted in Around Here

2 Responses

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  1. It blew my mind when I realized, some time around 20 years ago, that I had stopped thinking about our physical differences. What an odd thing to not think about, I thought.

    I am speaking, of course, of how relatively uncool you looked. 🙂


    January 19, 2012 at 2:24 am

  2. We have exactly the same amount of hair. I have paid close attention to our male-pattern baldness.


    January 19, 2012 at 2:31 am

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