As my husband and I were shopping at a local department store, a little four-year-old girl ran over to me, placed her hands on her hips and very curiously asked, “Why can't you walk!?"
While her very embarrassed mother tried to hide behind the clothing rack not wanting to claim her as her own, I tried to think of how I would explain to this child what my disability was in a way she could understand.
I could feel her eyes as they seemed to pierce through my very soul. Struggling to find the right words that would make her understand, my husband responded for me,
"OK!" she said as she skipped away completely satisfied with that answer.
I never stop to think that I look "different" being in a wheelchair until experiences like this happen; and I'm OK with them when they do. My differences are what make me, ME.
And as for "she's lazy" goes; if it makes a child happy and comfortable with someone who is "different," then that's OK with me too.