You know it's hard out here for a shrimp

 I am not a tall person. I think that is something on which anyone who has met me can agree.

In most areas of my life, it's not a big deal. It's not like I have to shop in the children's section or anything like that. 

In some ways, it's a plus.

I'm never taller than the guys I date, even if I'm wearing big-girl heels. One of them is a solid foot taller than I am. He is very useful for things like reaching items on high shelves or putting skis and bikes up on the car's roof rack. My shoulders are at the perfect height for him to drape an arm around me - I think he does it as much to have a comfortable place to rest his arm as to show affection.

Airplane seats are no problem. All of those enticements to pay extra for an economy plus seat in order to have more leg room elicit a shrug. My legs are short. They don't need extra room. 

Same with sitting in the back seat of a car. Push your front seat as far back as you want. 

I tend to fit in tight spaces. I can buy petite-sized pants that are the right length. I'm low to the ground, so my balance and stability tend to be good. 

On the other hand, crowds are terrifying because I'm squished and can't see anything. Overhead bins can be dangerous affairs. When I'm in a group photo, I'm so much shorter than other people it looks like I'm standing in a hole. Even my fellow shorties are taller than I am. 

I recently had a three-year-old look me up and down and say, "you know, you're really short!"

Oh yeah? So are you, pipsqueak.

This past weekend I stopped by the kids' dad's house to pick up some clothes that I'm going to bring them when we go to the beach next week. I pulled up in my usual spot behind his house. I went in, got the clothes, we chatted a bit, and I left.

We were still chatting as I got into the car. I started the engine and pulled out and immediately heard an awful crunching sound. 

Oh, fuck, I thought.

I got out and saw that I had driven into a large pile of yard refuse, including a tree stump that had been left out for garbage pickup. My lower front bumper was dented a little bit, but luckily the car was otherwise fine and drivable. 

And the frustrating part is that it wasn't like I hadn't been looking or paying attention. It was that I had been looking and paying attention, but I'm so damned short that even with my seat raised as high as it will go, I couldn't see it. 

"Dude, that sucks," he said,

"Yeah," I sighed.

Story of my life.