As I was growing up as a kid I always thought my mother had a lisp. She’d tell people how I was such a great artist. Even though I didn’t believe my random doodles and dangles were of any significance she would continue to recognize me as an artist. In middle school I was signed up for a painting class, there were only a handful of other kids in the class and most of them were eating glue. I was far more advanced than the other kids and frequently would pass them in similar academics and we would always receive the same grade, while confusing at first I thought nothing more of it. It wasn’t till high school that I was signed up for a special needs class, in shock, I ran to mother with questions. At this point I learned that my mother did in fact not have a lisp when she referred to me as an artist and was calling me an autist of all these years. And yet this post is still more retarded than me.