Taco night

Last night at dinner I spilled a spoonful of taco meat into my drink trying to make myself a taco.   Kiana looked at me and said, "mom, why didn't you ask for help?"  Then she came over to my side of the table, took one look at my glass, said "gross", and removed my glass from the table and took it to the sink.  Tim was at the stove frying up more tortillas, took one look at the glass,  and said, "what the heck?"  Kiana replied, "mom made a mess."  She came back to the table and made me a taco with all of the toppings.  She's 5. 

This incident made me laugh. I laughed at myself, I laughed at my husband's reaction, and I smiled at how sweet my daughter is.  I know a few of my close friends would have laughed too had they been at the table. Those ones who are comfortable enough with my disability to know how to react. To be able to laugh about it and say "gross", rather than get concerned, or feel sorry, or want to "fix it", and knowing they won't hurt my feelings by doing so.