Mother thrilled me with her stuttering words. I got the feeling that we might finally share a common ground to speak with a disability rather than speak the nonsense which others speak, or the nonsense which she herself constantly spoke. Finally, we are able to communicate with a new language, about things that connect our identities despite our deformity; at least there's a familiarity. We both have the ability to communicate in intelligible human methods, however, we both are differently and stubbornly expressive about our inabilities. Her, when she stutters and I, when I shake and flutter. Happiness engulfed me, not because the dose of my laughter will increase due to her stuttering which I previously found pitiful, but rather, because we both met again on the same side of that underrated language.