Sunday, August 21, 2016

I don't remember

Day 2 of memoir prompts.  You can find the prompt here.

I don't remember a time when I wasn't the tallest kid or one of the tallest kids in class.  From Kindergarten, all the way up until I graduated from High School.  Always the tall one.

It didn't bother me for a while.  Then I hit middle school.  I started at five feet, two inches.  I ended at five feet ten inches.  I had an insane growth spurt, where my big toe would make a hole through the top of my shoe because I was growing so fast.  I hated it.  I felt awkward.  Kids (because it's middle school and kids are dumb) would make fun of me.  I remember hearing the comment 'why does she wear her pants up so high??' Um, because that is where my waist is, idiot. 

My legs were incredibly long.  Still are.  At the ripe age of 38, I'm to the point where my height is an asset (yay for intimidation!).  I can find, and thankfully, afford pants and skirts that are long enough and fit appropriately.  I can find shoes big enough, that don't look like boys shoes.  

My height was difficult in high school.  Especially when I was 16.  I was ready to date.  And.....more than half the boys were shorter than I was.  Many barely caught up by the time we all graduated.  I had a silly rule that I wouldn't date anyone shorter than me.  Well, significantly shorter.  Which was dumb. Why would I eliminate all those possibilities?  

My kids are following in my genetic footsteps.  My 12 year old son has feet bigger than mine, my 10 year old daughter has legs that don't stop, and my youngest son, at 4 years old, looks like he is six.  It's a constant struggle finding pants, shoes, and shirts that fit.  Thank goodness for the internet.

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