I am a lady of the shorter persuasion. I would like to say I am close to 5″4′ which I happen to tell people, but in reality I’m actually 5″3′. Fun times for me right? On many occasions I think, why couldn’t I have just been 5″7′. It would have solved a whole lot of problems.
- Not being able to reach shelves
- Capri’s are actually the right length
- Heels make me reach a normal height
- When I’m in a crowd, I’m the ant amongst giants
- When I’m on a train, peoples armpits are in my face.
- My feet are actually a size 6(UK) which makes me feel like I got robbed. Shouldn’t I have had at least a size 4 shoe? Clown feet walking here!
- I’m chubby, so I look like an Oompa Loompa
- I don’t go near maxi dresses in fear that all the extra fabric will suffocate me
- When I have to walk next to tall people, I am actually jogging to keep up.
- I get angry when tall people take steps 2 at a time.
- Always adjusting the gym equipment height
- Pulling the car seat to it’s maximum shortness.
- Jumping up to reach something, which makes me look like a dog begging for a treat
- Improvising like MacGyver to figure out how to get things off of high places when jumping doesn’t work.
- Getting angry when the top that I want is hanging on the highest clothes rack in a store
- Getting a hanger off another rack to be able to shuffle the top that I do want off the highest clothes rack.
I mean the list can go on and on. Every day feels like an obstacle course. It’s actually started to annoy me greatly and I decided for my mental health to think of this every time I encounter a short moment…
I also say this to people who say… “awww you’re so cute” to me. They can go poop on their hand for all I care. Let the short girls unite!