On the field, I remember you were incredible, hey, shut up, hey, shut up, yeah...
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33. Can't reach top shelves, married tall.
When I was sixteen, I like to imagine I was five feet tall. I just lacked a quarter inch. I don’t imagine it would have made much of a difference really. I reported my height as an even sixty inches on all official documents anyway. As if anyone other than me cared about how tall I was.
During my senior year, I hit my growth spurt and grew all of two inches. Sure, there were other short people in my grade, but I was the one who tripped over the hem of my gown while shaking the principal’s hand. Oh, you saw that picture? Yeah, that was me. So, I guess this is where the story really starts, with me in my first year of university. My chemistry professor demanded that all his intro students buy some supplement text, and I had heard that the bookstore had just received a shipment of the books, so I went over to check. And they had it. And of course, it was on the top shelf. I looked for a stool or a ladder or a miracle, but alas, there was nothing.
Why didn’t I ask someone for help? Well, first of all, you impudent little twerp, don’t interrupt my storytelling with your smart aleck comments. Hey, hey, no whining! I’m the adult here; I get to decide what’s smart alecky and what’s not. Yes, there was a second. Secondly, I don’t know if your mother’s told-so what if “secondly” isn’t a word? What are you, the word police? Ha, I see your grin: you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?
Anyway, my story! I’m not sure if you knew, but I was rather proud when I was younger, so asking for help was entirely out of the question. What are you giggling about? Oh, your mom’s been telling stories about me, hasn’t she? Well, I have some stories about her too… No, I’m not mumbling angrily under my breath; stop making such wild accusations. Let’s get back to what matters, shall we? My story.
So, I was standing in front of the bookshelf when all of a sudden, this giant came up behind me! I was rather afraid he was going to eat me, and I must confess that I meeped. What’s meeping you ask? It’s kinda like this. Now you try. A little shorter. Just a bit higher. There! You’ve got it. Good job. I can mess up your hair if I want, punk. You’re going to grow up soon and then you’ll be too tall for me to mess with your hair, so let me do it while I can, okay? Okay.
So, there I was, meeping away, when the giant handed me the chem book I needed. And, well, here we are. No, you don’t need to know what happened between then and now. Those years are full of grown up stuff that isn’t very interesting. Not that this story wasn’t very interesting… Oh, it was? Well, thank you, you’re a dear. Now kiss your most favorite aunt good night, and no, I don’t care if I’m your only aunt or not-am I or am I not your favorite. Oh, what was that, I am your favorite? That’s what I thought. Now sleep tight, chickadee. You have a wedding to go to tomorrow morning. Hmm? Yes, I do think I’ll be splendidly happy with him. Just as happy as your mom and dad are and as happy as I hope you’ll be one day. Now, good night and sleep tight.
Love you too, kiddo.
33. Can't reach top shelves, married tall.
When I was sixteen, I like to imagine I was five feet tall. I just lacked a quarter inch. I don’t imagine it would have made much of a difference really. I reported my height as an even sixty inches on all official documents anyway. As if anyone other than me cared about how tall I was.
During my senior year, I hit my growth spurt and grew all of two inches. Sure, there were other short people in my grade, but I was the one who tripped over the hem of my gown while shaking the principal’s hand. Oh, you saw that picture? Yeah, that was me. So, I guess this is where the story really starts, with me in my first year of university. My chemistry professor demanded that all his intro students buy some supplement text, and I had heard that the bookstore had just received a shipment of the books, so I went over to check. And they had it. And of course, it was on the top shelf. I looked for a stool or a ladder or a miracle, but alas, there was nothing.
Why didn’t I ask someone for help? Well, first of all, you impudent little twerp, don’t interrupt my storytelling with your smart aleck comments. Hey, hey, no whining! I’m the adult here; I get to decide what’s smart alecky and what’s not. Yes, there was a second. Secondly, I don’t know if your mother’s told-so what if “secondly” isn’t a word? What are you, the word police? Ha, I see your grin: you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?
Anyway, my story! I’m not sure if you knew, but I was rather proud when I was younger, so asking for help was entirely out of the question. What are you giggling about? Oh, your mom’s been telling stories about me, hasn’t she? Well, I have some stories about her too… No, I’m not mumbling angrily under my breath; stop making such wild accusations. Let’s get back to what matters, shall we? My story.
So, I was standing in front of the bookshelf when all of a sudden, this giant came up behind me! I was rather afraid he was going to eat me, and I must confess that I meeped. What’s meeping you ask? It’s kinda like this. Now you try. A little shorter. Just a bit higher. There! You’ve got it. Good job. I can mess up your hair if I want, punk. You’re going to grow up soon and then you’ll be too tall for me to mess with your hair, so let me do it while I can, okay? Okay.
So, there I was, meeping away, when the giant handed me the chem book I needed. And, well, here we are. No, you don’t need to know what happened between then and now. Those years are full of grown up stuff that isn’t very interesting. Not that this story wasn’t very interesting… Oh, it was? Well, thank you, you’re a dear. Now kiss your most favorite aunt good night, and no, I don’t care if I’m your only aunt or not-am I or am I not your favorite. Oh, what was that, I am your favorite? That’s what I thought. Now sleep tight, chickadee. You have a wedding to go to tomorrow morning. Hmm? Yes, I do think I’ll be splendidly happy with him. Just as happy as your mom and dad are and as happy as I hope you’ll be one day. Now, good night and sleep tight.
Love you too, kiddo.