To properly set the context, my daughter is the fourth in a line of very short women. My grandmother was 4’10 1/4″ at her tallest; mom was 4’10 1/8″ (and very insistent on that one-eighth!), but is now 4’9″ and change; I’m 4’9″ (and a half, they said at the last measurement, but I don’t quibble). Becca has always been on her own growth curve, at the bottom of the chart the doctors use. Of course, we are all confident that the best things come in small packages. 🙂
So today, in the hallway at her middle school, a girl came up to Becca and said, “Are you in sixth grade? Because you’re tiny.” Before she could speak up, her friend jumped to her defense. “Hey! She’s tiny because she’s had so many traumas in her life, and they’ve stunted her growth. And if you don’t stop teasing her, she’ll never get any taller!” Then the girl apologized, and somehow Becca and her new best friend managed to keep from exploding in laughter until she was out of earshot.
Of course, Becca’s had her share of trauma, but just like mom and grandmother and great-grandmother, she has this wonderful thing called (I’m serious – it really has a name): Proportionate Short Stature. That’s it – a fancy medical term that means, “She’s short.” But I found the story hilarious, and Becca was delighted to find a friend who shares her wacky sense of humor. Keeping a sense of humor in middle school is so important. I don’t know how any of us manage to survive those years.
Oh yeah, and Mom thought I would be sympathetic once she was 4’9″-something, rather than 4’10”-something. Right. After all those years of four-foot-ten-AND-AN-EIGHTH, I’ll feel sorry for her. Hrmph. 🙂
I’ll tell you something else about Mom. If she says she’s 27, don’t believe her. (She’s a couple years older.) And if she says my sis and I are the children of her husband’s first wife, ask her how many times her husband has been married. (Once.) She may look young and sweet, but she’s a hardened deceiver.
(Just kidding, Mom – you know I love you!)