In his gentlest voice, he said to me, "Taylor perfect."
A thunder-clash of emotions clutched my insides---and then found a soft resting place deep within.
"Yes. Taylor perfect," I vowed.
And so it is.
And always was.
OK, I know it's not politically correct to use the word retarded. But, what if it were not a "bad" word? What if you hadn't had a negative reaction when you saw it in my blog title? Search your heart. Rethink this. My son has Down Syndrome. He lives in a world in which everybody treats him like he's "retarded." I'm his mom. My son teaches me so many valuable lessons that I am often too "slow" to get. I'm the Retarded (Loving) Mother.