Don't Get Short With Me

What’s funnier than kicking a midget?

Nothing.

For full effect, download “Short People” by Randy Newman, and play at maximum volume throughout the duration of this post.

For the record I would like to give a shout out to the big man upstairs for granting me the freedom of being over six feet tall. I feel entitled. More manly. I feel in debt knowing that I don’t need a stepping stool to get into a Toyota Corolla. Me not being under six feet in height means that I am actually in the top 8.3% of the population, true story. Seriously, Google my stats on that. It has to be posted on the Interweb somewhere.   

The fact that I’m a rather large individual means I don’t really see eye to eye with someone who has been cursed with being a little man. And yes, there was in fact an intended pun you could draw from that last sentence, feel free to laugh accordingly. I am being serious though, I don’t understand how little people work. And I mean that from a mental level, because if you are 35 years of age or older and STILL not above the required height to ride Splash Mountain, then I really don’t see how you can enjoy life at all.  

Coming to grips with the harsh truth of their stature should make any of the little people defensive. That is the correct term isn’t it, little people? And I don’t mean the little people that stand in as stunt doubles for Oompa Loompas, I mean people that are sadly stereotyped for being smaller than average. The ones who are in the bottom 8.3% in body size. The uncles and aunts you have that are forced to sit on the front row of family pictures with all of the little kids. Those people. #bigkidssittingatthelittlekidstable #yomamassosmall #weneedabigboychairforhim #yesijustusedhashtagstomakefunofmidgets

They sure are a fiery batch of munchkins. And rightly so, who out there would be happy if they went on weekend shopping binges for themselves at Gymboree or The Children’s Place? It’s almost a requirement to have a defensive attitude in order to survive life as a short person. If my wife carried me across the threshold into our hotel room on the night of our honeymoon I would be mad as Mike Tyson. There wouldn’t be a single shred of happiness in my entire midget frame. Heck, I’d be on edge until my last days when I was laid to rest in a mini-fridge. 

From my estimation being short gives you a rather inflated case of narcissism, or what I hear science calls “Small Man Syndrome”. And of course you all know what that is. It’s when little men creatures buy big men things to compensate for the fact that all of their friends use their heads as an armrest when standing in a crowd. And so to combat that abuse, they are then forced into buying an F-350 with a Hemi engine even though they can't reach the tailgate on the back.   

Seriously, tonight when I get down on my knees I’m going to thank my maker for the fact that I didn’t reach the peak of my growth spurt when I turned 8. I know with my height I don’t always fit in the coach seats of airplanes, or I whack my head on the chandelier every now and again. But I’ll take those bumps knowing that people will never mistake me for being a leprechaun, or that I never get handed a kids menu when I go out to eat. And if you’re a guy under 5’5” and still reading this post, I applaud you for that. In fact, I actually look up to you.

Figuratively speaking.