|
Wee
Folk
I
am of median height, yet have always felt under privileged in the
tallness dept. .... I truly feel I should have grown to be
5'28"..... Because I did not adequately achieve the stature of
my inner self, I have a slight Napoleon complex… All tall friends
are required to accommodate
my need for climbing higher than they are to give & receive a
hug.
A
few decades ago, when the idea of music & speaking with in vitro
infants was new, I had the idea that perhaps by communicating to a
gestating babe I could influence their altitude potential.
I would identify myself as their adopted Aunt & explain
that they must not grow taller than me. This practice amused the
mother to be & often received laughter from nearby onlookers. I
was not discouraged, all innovative scientific ideas seem silly in
the beginning & this hypothesis would take quite a while to see
its evidential conclusion. The long & short of it is that my
experiment seemed to have merit, until… Two lady friends due at
the same time (unknown to each other)
had allowed me to converse with their extended bellies. Each
lady was partnered with a gentleman of a disproportionately towering
nature. When at last I met each decanted newborn, I introduced
myself again & was met with recognition.
It is true that the growing fetus will remember voices that
it hears often. I
reiterated that they must not grow taller than me. Imagine my
surprise when their response was quite literally to laugh at me. Not
one, but two infants were whole heartedly amused by my (I’ll
admit, selfish) ploy. To
my lasting chagrin, I knew I must abandon the supposition of verbal
influence for genetic modification of height.
However
dismally the experiment had failed, there were a few bright morsels
of success. As a side benefit of this verbal experiment, when the
children were born they all showed definite signs of genetic
influence from me. Every one of them had inherited my round cheeks
& often some other trait as well.
(In fact one child with
whom I had spoken to quite often looks like he should be my son…) AND
that communicating with wee folk has lasting effects….
This seemed the perfect opportunity to enlist these beautiful
cherubs into my future. In
addition to speaking
with nascent zygotes, I endeavored to win the trust of each
rug rat. I played ‘up in the air’ & ‘what are you doing
upside down?’ (which has the extra added benefit
of being an excellent cardio vascular exercise…) with
the ankle biters until they saw me as a great source of
amusement. I would greet
them with “Hello Short Person”. **
Once
they have reached the house broken stage (out
of diapers & enough manual dexterity to hold a dirty dish to
clean it) I would make a proposition to each one. “If I let
you grow taller than me, you must become an art patron when you are
an adult with a career.” With a parental witness I would shake
hands to seal the deal. In this way I am growing my own patrons.
**(or
Hello Short People if it were a crowd) Astonishingly &
unanimously they
objected to being called short. Often snapping “I am not
short.” To which I countered “You are shorter than me, so that
makes you short since I am the national median…” We had many a
verbal dispute upon the subject of shortness & the epithets
thereby related. The
most endearing exchange came from an angry young
boy. He would blow up every time I greeted him with “Hello
Short Person”. But without being able to disprove his shortness,
our banter would come to a stalemate.
I am so proud of the day he replied ever so sweetly “Hello
Little Person”. He was
the first to dissolve his anger with a humorous retort.
Soon however these diminutive humans were competing to find
other synonyms for short… Shrimp,
& Speck being two of the meanest
from one particular girl (now an Amazon & future art
patron … Holly also has the honor of finding the loophole in our
handshake agreement.)
|
