For years, I was a giant among men. Well, among a number of little dudes anyway. As long as we didn’t go anywhere near my dad (or my brother-in-law)(or my wife’s brother), I was always the tallest dude in the house. Until last year, that is. And until my wife, known to some as She Who Enjoys High Heels Far Too Much, decided she really enjoyed wearing high heels.
At six feet, I’m about three inches taller than my wife. Of course, when she puts on the high heels, she gets right up there and we see eye-to-eye on things other than disciplining the little dudes. The hardest thing, though, was when my little dudes started shooting up. In height, that is, not heroin.
Three years ago, my oldest little dude came up to my shoulder. The year after, he was just about as tall as I was. This year, however, he’s clearly taller than me, by at least an inch or more. And my middle little dude is starting to follow the same pattern. He’s edging up and is already taller than his mother. Both of them are enjoying the heck out of their rapidly rising stature.
Last week, I actually got a “Shorty” from my oldest little dude. I can’t tell you how very, very strange it feels to shake my finger into the face of a little dude who’s taller than I am. I have this feeling that I’m going to go from being the tallest dude in the house to being the shortest. Fortunately, my youngest little dude is only 9 so I’ve got a couple of more years to lord my impressive height over him.
As for my wife, I’m thinking maybe I should give up the tennis shoes and only wear shoes with heels. And, yes, I’m probably putting way too much emphasis on this. I just think I’m going to get the short end of the stick. That was a pun.
– Richard
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Most folks that claim to be 6 feet tall are really 5′11″. Why do they lie about their height? Have your dudes measure you barefoot and flat footed after dinner tonight and report the truth.
Your 6′ 1& 1/2″ Dad