Anyone Have Stilts I can Borrow?

I’m afraid I have terrible news.

I went to the doctor yesterday.

And, well, bad news bears.

Per the doctor’s measurements, I am 5’11’’ ½ feet tall. Yes, not six feet tall, as I have always thought and claimed.

This is, of course, devastating. My entire life goal was to be six feet tall. Given my proximity to the age of 25, the opportunity for further growth seems remote, at best.

By saying I am six feet tall, I have apparently been lying for years. Although I'm normally not under oath, untruths have been coming out of my mouth. In light of these new facts and figures, I fear nobody will ever trust me again.

I’m not sure what happened. I find it unlikely that I was once six feet tall and have now shrunk. Unless I am at the Boston dogtrack, I am not Charlie in Wonderland.

What is more likely is that I never actually was six feet tall and instead have always resided in the five-foot range. That is, I have always just been short.

Therefore, my whole life has been a lie. Despite, walking, talking, and acting like a tall man, I should have comported myself in a manner common to short people.

Because the world sure is different when you're short. I found myself racing to the store to buy stepstools. I suddenly found myself wearing more pinstripes and top hats. Perhaps I should pay attention to those clown signs saying "You must be this tall to ride the cannon" at the carnival. And at the Springsteen concert in October, I'll be the first one standing on the seats, trying to see the Boss.

I am just upset that the doors to Big & Tall are now forever closed to me. I wonder where Short & Small is.

Probably not anywhere you can find a date.