Why? Because I'm short. Vertically challenged. Well-grounded. Down to earth. The back of the stove, where I keep the mugs, is a stretch for me. A slip of the hand, and one went flying.
I've mostly grown used to these kinds of accidents, which is good because I'm not doing any other kind of growing. I used to joke that my goal in life was to be five feet tall. Now that I'm of shrinking age, the verdict is in: Ain't gonna make it.
I've accepted this, but I don't always like it. I get annoyed when simple household tasks (getting a can of beans, putting away the sheets) require a stepstool, and it seems that I'm always behind a giant at art exhibits and the movies. And that's only the beginning of the complaint list:
-Furniture manufacturers design for tall or average, so I often have to sit with feet dangling or sticking straight out.
-Mirrors are often placed so that I can see, without leaping like a salmon, only the top of my head or eyes, at most.
-Automobile seat belts cut uncomfortably across my throat. In an accident, I'm more likely to die bleeding from the jugular or suffocating in the air bag than be thrown.
-And speaking of cars, I can't drive just anything. I have to try them out to see if I can both reach the pedals and see over the hood.
-Shopping is a nightmare, whether it is trying to reach a product in the grocery store or finding a skirt that doesn't sweep the floor.
Occasionally, though, I come up with some advantages to shortness:
-I'm less likely than others to be bothered by the airlines' quest to put more people in less space. And in most planes I can stand and stretch without blocking the aisle.
-In the rain, an umbrella protects more of me.
-I'm always in the first row for group photographs. I'm not sure why this is a good thing, but I'm reaching, here. As usual.
I also console myself with the thought that the very tall have their own problems, like avoiding rooms with ceiling fans, squeezing into low cars and buying pants that go all the way to the foot.
...But then I need something from that cabinet above the refrigerator. Sigh.
I don't know how many people, if any, read this blog on a regular basis, but if you exist: I will not post next week while I am in New Orleans. Laissez les bon temps roulez!