i’m short

I’m short.  Just an inch or two shorter and I’d be classified as a little person.  Which would probably be better, than when people comment on me being short, I could just get all defensive and say, “I don’t like the term short, I like the term little person”.  Plus, being a true little person, maybe I could get to know the people from that tv show on tlc.

I don’t normally mind being short.  I think for the most part I’m delusional and live my life in denial.  I picture myself as being normal sized.  I don’t notice that the cart at costco comes up to my boobs, or that I can’t reach the second shelf in my upper kitchen cabinets, or that I don’t see my friends eye to eye.

But then there’s every once in while when, I’m standing on the curb and a notice that I’m the same height as a friend on the street.  Or when I stand on the couch, I can see eye to eye with Dave.  Or, someone will ask me to go back to back with my daughter and see who’s taller. And I realize I’m short.

There isn’t much I can do about being short. That’s the way God made me. I’m not going to grow.  Honestly, I’m probably shrinking millimeters every year.  I guess I could wear heels, but i’m lazy.  Plus I’d be the short girls with 4 inch heels who is still short.

I try to see the positive side.  I always notice money on the ground first, because I’m closer to it.  Score!  I can totally crawl into the back of my van and almost stand, which comes in handy while buckling the babies in the car.  Another plus is that I can still fit into, yes inside (which I’m not sure if that speaks to my stature or my flexibility), some cabinets inside my house.  and I can stand in my slope ceiling pantry.

But then there’s every once in a while when being short really, really irks me.

Like when a fellow parent, teacher, leader, or grown-up thinks I’m 17.  Making a comment like that might seem funny or maybe complimentary but it’s not.  It makes me feel invisible.  It makes me feel like you don’t even saw me,  just saw my height.  I know I don’t look seventeen.  I rarely (okay never) get carded for buying beer.  Maybe I don’t get carded because I always have a brood of kids with me, or maybe it’s because I carry a huge old lady purse.  Maybe it’s because the lady at the store has to look me in the eye and pay attention for a second while I fork over some cash. I don’t know, but the people at the grocery store never think I’m under 21.  When someone discounts my age, all on account of my height, it hurts my feelings.  It makes me feel defensive and invisible.

Or when someone asks if my 11-year-old is taller than me yet, um who cares?  I do hope that she will be tall. But by asking if she’s passed me up yet, you’re offending me.  You’re putting me down, I’m sure unintentionally, but you’re hurting my feelings for something I can’t do anything about.  How would you like it if I asked if you’re kid has outgrown your nose yet?