The problem with Ronald was everything. You told him to do something, he did the opposite. You asked for help, he’d fall asleep on the job. It wasn’t that he was bad or evil or any stereotypical resolution, he just couldn’t help himself. I often thought when God made him, he forgot one of his batteries, or wired him wrong, or did it on purpose just to get a reaction.
The aforementioned issues led to no one having high expectations of Ronald. You knew he was no astronaut, no great thinker, no Priest with words of kindness, in truth, you never expected much.
When Ronald emerged from the fire with my daughter in his arms, his jacket burning and a lopsided grin on his face, I forgot all the things he wasn’t and thought only of what he was: a hero. I wouldn’t judge him again, but then I never should have.