At 30,000 Feet, I Watched My Wife Crawl Across the Floor With Both Legs in Casts While My Mother Hid Her Crutches—Then I Noticed What Was Recording Behind Them

“The crutches incident.”

I hated that phrase.

Clara hated:

“The crawl.”

So we stopped retelling it casually.

Not secret.

Not entertainment.

If someone needed context for boundaries, we gave enough.