Take My Advice

If I could give advice to anyone on how to get ahead in life it would be “Be Cute.” You can get away with anything if you are cute enough. I’m speaking from observation here, not experience.

Nobody used to tell me Gus was cute when they saw him.

But when Gus was a puppy, his cuteness was not a matter of opinion. You couldn’t help but gush over Gus.

When you look like that, you can get away with anything. When Gus was a puppy, there were countless incidents where he chewed or peed on something. Sometimes he would chew something and then pee on it. Sometimes he would pee on something and then chew it. Each time I wanted to strangle him, but how can you strangle that face? Maybe God made puppies cute so we wouldn’t kill them.

Most animals are cut when they are little. Heck, even chickens are cute when they are babies. We love small things. The smaller, the cuter. Maybe not down to the cellular level, but you know what I mean.

Audrey is so cute she could get away with murder. I hope I never have to find out if that statement is literally true, so for now, we’ll assume figurative murder. Last weekend, I did the girls’ laundry and placed all their clothes in nice, neat stacks on the couch. I had previously watched a YouTube video on methods for folding children’s clothing because watching videos about folding laundry is the kind of thing I do in my free time now. Those symmetrical stacks were my first attempt at my new method, and I was quite impressed with my newfound skills. Then, Audrey walked by and knocked over each stack, giggling louder with the toppling of each successive stack.

I told her “No” in sign language, but I just could not get mad, much less stay mad, at that precious little face.

We frequently take Audrey to the mall on Saturday mornings to walk. It’s good exercise for her to get better at walking and the long walkways allow Audrey to get her steps in without having to do 1437 laps around our house.

Everyone at the mall loves her. We see the same faithful group of mall walkers every week, and they all gush over Audrey. They comment on how fast she is going and how big she is getting. And when she is hugging the wall during a counterclockwise lap, nobody in the oncoming traffic complains. They just smile and move a few steps to their left to let her by.

But I can’t help but wonder, would they feel the same way if she was an adult? There’s nothing cuter than watching my tiny toddler scoot around the mall with her walker. But nobody says that when it’s an adult with disabilities trying to navigate a crowd with their walker or wheelchair. It’s not “How cute” it’s “How annoying.” It’s not, “She’s so impressive” It’s “She’s getting in my way. She’s slowing my sprint to Cinnabon.”

And then I imagine Audrey trying to get on a bus or airplane when she’s an adult. It’s going to take her a while, and she might still have her walker. I can envision the scorn and ridicule of other passengers as the bus or plane delays its boarding process while Audrey finds a place to store her walker. Our fast-paced society was not designed for someone with disabilities.

I know I’m overgeneralizing here. Not everybody says those things or thinks that way. I know that some people do because I was one of those people. I’ve been so absorbed in my world that I just saw other people as an inconvenience. But not anymore. I have Audrey to thank for that.

People with disabilities have a tough hill to climb, and the climb gets steeper when they aren’t cute anymore.