Wanted: A Few Inches

We all want things in life: to win the lottery, world peace, fat-free Chunky Monkey ice cream that tastes like the real thing.

But for me, it's something so small yet so unattainable. I want to be taller.

Now don't get me wrong, I actually don't mind being my height, which is roughly 5 feet. My pediatrician once, after assessing my height and weight, called me a "nice little package." (Granted, these days that might be viewed as “crossing a line.”) Besides, what I lack in height, I make up for with sass and raw animal sexuality. Growl. But really, it's the ramifications that get me.

It's the fact that I’m the oldest child in my family, but have always been too small to beat up my little brother, who's now six foot two. My version of roughhousing was punching him in the kidney and then fleeing for my life. And sure, I know I have the intellectual prowess, after all, I can kick his ass in Hungry Hungry Hippos, but it's hard to remember that when he was punting me across the house like a football.

And there’s the problem that even petite pants are sometimes too long. I once went into a store where the “short” pants always fit and suddenly this was not the case. I began to wonder: had I shrunk? Because honestly, I thought I had a few more good years before that happened. I was then informed by the overly snotty saleswoman that "petite is now 5"3." What am I supposed to do, shop at Kids 'R Us? Because let me tell you, their suit selection, pretty limited. Trust me, I know.

It's the fact that I'll always be cute. Never pretty, never mature, just cute. And that being cute sometimes leads people to think that they can pet me on the head, like their golden retriever. Yes, every girl's dream. I mean, I can understand why Tom Cruise made it so he looked taller then his lady in the wedding pictures. Self-esteem boosts come in all shapes and sizes, people. Sure, it also means that I look younger and that this could one day lead to work as the "underage girl" on To Catch a Predator, but let's not get distracted.

And of course, there's the issue that if my boyfriend or roommate aren't home, I must swallow my pride and get out the stepladder to reach something off any of the shelves. Did you know that in Missouri, if you're less than 5"2 you're legally considered a midget? A midget! Sure, I'd get my own handicapped parking space, but to think they can label me just because of my size! What’s next labeling someone because of their skin color? Oh, wait….anyway.

Now, I’m a curious girl and I like solutions. That torture instrument in the Tower of London known as the Rack could work. Its purpose? To stretch out the victim’s limbs until they pretty much died, but before that happened, they would gain a couple of inches. All I can say is sign me up! After all, I have spent years dating incredibly tall men. A few hours craning to get your ear near to a mouth that is a foot above you just to have a conversation can certainly stretch the neck muscles, why not the legs! (I date tall men, by the way, in case I end up bearing their children. No rush, but I figure that way, at least my offspring would have a chance at a normal-sized life.)

I realized I may be small, but at least all my parts are in working order. Sure, I can’t be a pilot, or a fireman, or even a petite model, but I have to be positive. I could look to a profession where height doesn’t matter, like a job where I spend a lot of time on my back (if you know what I’m saying), but there’s got to be something else.

So I did what any girl looking for some hope would do: No, I didn’t think what would Jesus do, I looked to the stars for inspiration. And I was annoyed to find that pint-sized performers Sammy Davis Jr., Prince, and Christina Aguilera are all taller then me. Then again, I was surprised to find that heavyweights like Joan of Arc and Tammy Faye Baker only stood at 4”11! (Although with Tammy, I think those fake eyelashes gave her a few extra inches.)

In the end, I guess you’re stuck with the cards you’re dealt. And to get me through the tough times like when I’m in a crowd at a concert and can’t see the stage, I turn to one of my favorite poets. Truer words were never spoken when he said: (in dramatic accent) “I wish I was a little bit taller. I wish I was a baller. I wish I had a girl, who looked good, I would (indeed) call her.” And while Skee-lo’s rap career may have faded away (maybe because he was greedy, I mean he also said “I wish I was like six foot nine, so I could get with Leoshi, cuz she don’t know me but she’s really fine), his words and his longing for a few more inches will always live in my heart.