I had a classmate who was retarded. His mother was retarded, too, I guess, because when she got angry, she got out of hand and had no choice but to communicate by decoding the unspoken screams of her son.
The mother drove a yellow Sunny coupe with the engine hood painted matte black.
I used to see her screaming and driving up the hill at a high rate of speed, but I wonder if she is still alive and well.
Come to think of it, I never saw his father once...