I’ve always had an inflated sense of my own height.
I’m lucky to be 5ft 5in, my ex is 5ft 11in, but I would often insist that I was almost at his level.
That was patently not true, but I’ve never felt short.
So I was shocked when a bloke told me during my early days of post-marriage singledom that I wasn’t his cup of tea because he preferred tall women.
He turned to internet dating in his search for a statuesque match and it was the first thing he mentioned in his profile.
I don’t understand prescriptiveness when it comes to seeking a life partner. I’m more of a connection person.
It’s also weird watching your children grow from knee height to towering above you. Both my kids are around 5ft 10in.
The youngest looked positively Amazonian beside me for her Year 10 formal.
And I’ve been helping a very tall political team during the local council elections. Team Roy are an impressive trio – check them out …
Blimey! I look like hobbit.
In other news, yesterday was a bit crazy because I was juggling prior commitments with new job responsibilities. I ducked off at lunchtime to sip a martini and slurp oysters at The Centennial Hotel.
OK, I need to get cracking on my second day on the new job. I’ve cleared all my drinks commitments and I have training modules to complete. Pray for little ol’ me.
Song of the day: Randy Newman “Short people”