Generally, I enjoy being a tall person. Let’s face it, being tall helps to distribute the fat evenly. Sometimes however, being tall comes with its own set of problems. I remember being the tallest person in grade school for quite some time (even taller than the boys). I was always some sort of freak. You are forced to stand in the back for all pictures, programs, etc. What this essentially means is that you could show up in your pajamas because nobody will ever SEE your outfit anyway. You become a big floating head in the middle of all the munchkins. Being tall also means you will get asked the stupidest questions. Let me assure you, the weather is exactly the same up here as it is down there. And no, I don’t play basketball. If I am in the grocery store, I am asked to reach things from high shelves. That’s fine except for the fact that I don’t ask short people to bend over and grab stuff from the bottom shelves for me. People want to know how tall you are but you could never ask someone how short they are. Are your parents tall? Well duh, somebody must be or else where would it come from? Some people think there is a “tall people’s club” and we all know each other. We don’t. Yes, I hit my head on stuff and yes, it hurts more when I fall. I have a lot further down to go. I don’t ask you if you are familiar with garden gnomes so don’t ask me if I know who Shaquille O’neal is.