I am short. Well, I am shorter than I thought I was. My husband is tall and he, it turns out, is even taller than I thought he was.
I spend a great majority of my time with him looking him in the eye. Because of this, I have mistakenly concluded that we are “about the same height”. Gently, he has tried to convince me otherwise but I have clung to what I thought was our truth – that he was just barely four inches taller and therefore we were pretty much eye – level.
Last night, as we were brushing our teeth side by side in the bathroom I received quite a shock. Two, actually. For starters, the long sleeved tee shirt I bought from the Gap in seventh grade (that I was wearing) looked sort of worn for some reason and my husband appeared significantly taller than me. I started in on my “only four inches” speech when he smiled and said, “Uh, I think you are more than four inches shorter than I am”.
No problem. I would quickly clear this up with the old Mom standby of measuring our height with a pencil against the shelving in our garage and then we could measure. HA! I clocked in at a tiny 5’7.5 to his gargantuan 6’1.25. WHAT?
Not only had I maintained that he was six feet tall the entire time I have known him, but I have clung to my previously reported 5’8 desperately since puberty. You should know I come from a tall people and my mom is six feet tall. 5’8 seemed shrimpy compared to my long limbed siblings – all of whom are taller than I am.
My life wife thought this story was funny (she of the 5’9.5 variety) and reminded me that we shrink as we age. Gah! Though that may be the case, I think it is likely the cause of inaccurate data collection and I have half a mind to take this up with the pediatrician who last misinformed me.
With this new information I have had to reimagine myself. Who was I now? (Cue the introspective hipster music). Kidding aside, it was a revelation of sorts and then it was just another piece of information about me. I know who I am and what I want and who I love and what I believe in and those things just make a person stand a little taller – no matter what that shelving says about her.