Somewhere in all the years of going to the doctor’s office, I gained an inch, but the nurse cavalierly took my new height away. It may not be significant, but I’ve been 5’4 for countless years, and then somewhere along the way, I became the statuesque height of 5’5″. That may not seem like a huge difference, but I maintained the hierarchy within my family. I still couldn’t reach the top cabinets, but it didn’t matter. I could look my daughter straight in the eye.

There is nothing wrong with being short, petite, minor or any of the other words associated with making smaller people feel even smaller about their size. I am the average size of shortness. I need a stool to reach most shelves and I’ve never hit my head on a basement ceiling.

When I went to my latest doctor’s visit, she asked if I consistently took my shoes off while being measured because I had lost an inch. Come on! I had only crawled up to my new height a few years ago, but with a quick scratch of the pen, I’m back to being the shortest in the family.

This obsession with height stems from my mother. When my children were young, I’d tell them, “Just like my mother told me, you can’t boss me around until you are taller.” For the record, don’t make statements that rely on uncontrollable circumstances, like height, even in jest. Children have long memories, but still can’t remember to make their morning bed.

It turns out that my mother was lucky she maintained her height regime over her children. Until she passed, she stood by her words. Her height made her the boss. I lost that battle on all fronts. I haven’t looked my son in the eye, without stairs or a stool, since he was in 8th grade. Using my own rules against me, he quickly pointed out that his height made him king, and therefore didn’t have to do anything I said. I introduced him to the amendment section of our parenting plan. I can stand on anything I want while he remains on the ground.

I certainly don’t want to continue shrinking. I can graciously accept a clerical error, but if I get any shorter, I’ll start a WebMD spiral search of shrinking women with bone density leading to osteoporosis. Note to self: keep shoes off for future doctor visits.

I will always be able to look my daughter in the eye, though I may be wearing a nice pair of heels. I think that means I’m still the boss? Stay strong.