“What are you doing, A-? Just get in your seat!” I begged my toddler daughter as she almost finally got into her car seat.

“I’m looking at the pictures,” she replied, un-phased by my pleading tone.

“The what? Oh. Those are instructions for people who can’t read,” I retorted, no less annoyed. Instructions for people who can’t read, I repeated to myself.

That’s about right. We have plastic seats for children. The poor and illiterate didn’t invent them, and wouldn’t think to use them if it wasn’t for the wealthy and literate. So what do the literate do? Write instructions on the seat, as if that solves any problem.

****

I would’ve thought this experience was a one-off. Wouldn’t you? This “providing help in an utterly un-useful manner”.

Then we were at the local mega-playground today. And there is a sign with English, Spanish, and Braille. But the Braille is not textured—ie, not Braille.

In English, our native tongue, then, “It gets worse. It always gets worse.”