I had to admit, today, to a friend, what was really going through my mind as Sarah was telling me, on Friday afternoon, the first part of the interpreter story.
It wasn’t’ exactly horror, or concern, or that I wanted to bop the idiot terp over the head with a heavy ASL dictionary, it was, “Boy, this is going to make great material for one of Aaron’s stand-up comedy routines.”
Now you know what sort of a mother I really am.
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