In the consultant’s office, Mumma answers the questions I can’t. I’m weighed and measured. The height chart is just a ruler, not like the one in my bedroom with lions and giraffes and “Grow Wild” written on top. Mumma says I must sit my straightest, let the doctor bend and stretch me even though it makes my muscles pulse. I understand that “wild” isn’t permitted here, only normal. The doctor offers us an operation to reshape my crescent-moon feet. Mumma pauses. I tell him, “The moon’s actually the shape of a lemon.” He looks from me to Mumma. She’s smiling.
Keely O’Shaughnessy (she/her) is a writer with cerebral palsy who lives in Stroud, Gloucestershire, England. When not writing, she likes discussing David Bowie with her cat. Find Keely at keelyoshaughnessy.com and on Twitter @KeelyO_writer.