Out of My Reach: Most Things
Oh hi, I betcha didn’t see me there did you? Or maybe you did and thought I was a child, or maybe you were just about to make a short joke. But trust me, I’ve heard it all. And since I’m tired of the dumb “you need to “rise up” to the occasion” or how “ I need to reach towards my goals” or my personal favorite “ my relationship with gravity is better than most” ,I thought I’d give you a little glimpse into my life as someone who’s height is below average in every country except Peru.
Let’s start with the basics, houses.
Every single cabinet in my house is my mortal enemy. As someone who is 5”1 I can’t reach anything. I’ve spent a good majority of my life jumping on counters to reach the food my normal sized parent have unconsciously put out of my reach, likewise I’ve spent a good majority of my life getting yelled at for jumping on the counters. “Why don’t I use a stepping stool?” You might ask? And the answer is because they don’t work, those extra four inches still leave my fingertips frantically grasping for the slippery surface of the peanut butter jar only to have it spin even further away.
Next we have clothes.
Fun fact about me, is that I love to bake, but because of my talent it has become my mortal enemy by giving me these things called hips and thighs. The petite section is where I shop because I’m short, but I frequently have to cuff my jeans and wear belts because they don’t fit. I can honestly say I have never owned a pair of pants that has fit me perfectly.
Moving on we have, human beings.
Excluding my friend Jiré, I am the shortest one out of my friends. The tallest one is Mariah, who is 5’10 and counting. And her favorite pastime is making jokes about my height and giving me nicknames. She’s still growing but I’m not, so she refers to me as “little one” and constantly says that I should just “stretch” if I need to reach something. If short people had a hit list, she’d be at the top. One of these days I will get my revenge. One. Day.
And last but not least is photos.
Let’s say you’re taking a selfie with your normal sized friends and one of them pulls out the selfie stick. You all crowd together and they take the photo, while you’re reviewing it you notice, you’re not there. You look closer and notice your signature hairstyle in the bottom corner of the picture and that’s it. So you try again, this time you take the photo, but everyone else’s head is cut off. So you settle for the first one and that’s how our senior survival group photo turned out.
But at the end of the day, despite all the short jokes, head pats, and kitchen cabinets, we’re still the ones those giants come to when their long legs prevent them from functioning. So HA!