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The Maternal Unit seemed to get a great deal of enjoyment out of telling me what career paths I *couldn't/shouldn't* pursue, because I'm handicapped.

"You can't be an archaeologist, if you go into shunt failure in the middle of some Third World jungle they'll never get you to a good hospital in time!"

"You can't be a gymnast, because of your hydrocephalus you can't do tumbling.  You know that!"

"You can't be a police officer/paramedic/EMT, they'll never accept you for training because you can't drive!"

"You should be a writer or an English teacher."  To which end she deliberately thwarted my own college plans, but that's another post for another time.

Whether she was right or not isn't really the point.  But there's "letting someone you love down gently", and there's "telling them no in the most blunt and forceful way possible so they'll see how foolish their dreams are".

I learned two things growing up.  Not to have dreams.  And if I did, not to share them with the Maternal Unit.