I'm really good at my job weeding out fraudsters at the benefit office. Just yesterday this woman came in with her son, who was in a wheelchair. "He can't walk. He needs to be spoon-fed. I need help getting him in and out the shower..." she said. I looked at the boy skeptically and made a few notes. "How old is he?" I asked her, smiling reasuringly. "He's nine," the woman said. "And he is incapable of moving independently?" I asked, scribbling in my notebook. "He has severely impaired motor-skills which mean he finds it impossible to perform tasks like dressing or eating by himself. He needs full-time care." "I see," I said, examining the boy from different angles and continuing to take notes. "And is his condition neurological or is it a muscular degenerative condition?" "He has cerebral palsey so it is neurological," his mother replied. I nodded. "And has his condition manifested recently or has he always been a retard?" I asked. "My son is not a retard!" the woman shouted furiously. "I fucking knew it!" I said.