... and what's your problem?
by Dianna Brown

Those of you who have been reading my blog awhile know about my Missy. She has been on my mind a lot lately so I gonna talk about one of my favorite memories about her.

Ya'll know that she has Cerebral Palsy. She gets around in a motorized wheelchair. When she was nine or so, I bought both my girl's matching Easter outfits. Amanda's accessories were pink (a hat and gloves, shoes and frilly socks). Missy's accessories were blue and the same except she had no socks or shoes because of her braces. When I showed them to the girls Missy got really quiet. I asked her what was wrong. She told me that Amanda's outfit was beautiful but she wouldn't be pretty because of the braces and hightops she had to wear.

My first thought was "DANG!" My mother's heart broke. I decided right then and there that three hours on Easter Morning would not make or break her walking. I loaded all three kids up inna van and we took off to Wally World (Whatever would we do without Wally world?) When we got there Missy picked out some baby blue patent leather Mary janes' and white socks with a triple row of gathered baby blue lace on them. Her little face just glowed. She was so happy.

She wanted to know if she could go show Bubba (he worked at Wally World in the Sporting Good Department). I told her take off. I had taught my children at an early age to follow me. Missy would follow me inna her wheelchair and Amanda and Franky would hold on to the wheelchair. It had to be this way because people who design store layouts don't always allow for wheelchair clearance. I had to go in front to make sure Missy's chair would fit.

At this time, Missy used a Mullholland seating system. It looked like a torture device. Her legs were strapped down, Her ribs had pads to hold her spine straight. Her feet were strapped down, Her shoulders were held back and there was a brace for her head. It was an excellent position system and kept her from getting stress fractures, but it looked like it should hurt.

Well anyway, we're tooling along headed for sporting goods when all at once this guy steps in front of Missy. Now, he was about 6"7", thin as a rail, straight legs jeans, flannel shirt, belt buckle as big as a dinner plate, cockroach killer high-heel cowboy boots, and a black felt cowboy hat with what we used to call whore feathers. He looked down at Missy and in one of the deepest bass voices I have ever heard said, "What's wrong with you?"

Now granted his motivation was kindness, but he was stomping all over Missy's new found joy. My darlin' daughter looked him up and down and as plain as I can speak said, "I've got Cerebral Palsy. What's your problem?"

He just sorta disappeared. I love my Missy's attitude.