Watching me playing from across the room, something alerted my dad. He held up a newspaper and asked me to read the headline.
And that's how we found out my eight-year-old self had been faking it: guessing my way through what was written on the board at school; spotting buck from the car at the Kruger Park that no-one else could see (turns out I couldn’t distinguish between a bush-blur and an animal-blur).
I had no idea there was any other way to see the world until we drove home from the optometrist, me wearing my first pair of glasses. I could see individual leaves on trees! I could see the details on the mine dumps! The world was a magically beautiful place.
I've never been happier to be proved wrong.