Our second son is tall.
Taller than average.
In his stocking feet, he stands six
foot eight.
Put shoes on the lad and . . . well,
you get the picture.
I have a close family friend.
I don't want to say that she is short,
but . . . okay, she is short.
Her head reaches somewhere between our
son's chest and his belt buckle.
But she makes up for lack of quantity
with excess of quality.
Feisty.
Describes her perfectly.
Erik, said second son, used to tease
her.
About her height.
Or lack thereof.
I should point out that this woman has
six children of her own.
She could give it right back.
One day, he stood looking down at her.
And grinning.
“Oh!” she said.
Nearby was a bucket of honey.
Okay, yes. When one has six children,
plus foster kids, one buys honey by the bucketful.
Moving on . . .
She pushed the bucket close and stood
up on it.
I should point out that it only
increased her height by about ten inches. Not nearly enough.
“Ha!” she said, looking up into his
face. “What are you going to do about that?”
Erik merely stepped backwards.
“Oh!” She said. She jumped off her
bucket and kicked it over beside him again.
Then she stepped up once more.
“Ha!” she said again.
He stepped back once more.
“Oh!” she said.
This went on for some time.
She pushed that honey bucket all over
the kitchen.
Somehow, confrontation is a bit less .
. . confrontational . . . when one partner has to keep moving their
honey bucket to continue with the . . . confrontation.
Hmm.
Maybe an important point to consider .
. .
hmmm...yes, an important point to consider. I love it.
ReplyDeleteSize does matter.
DeleteBut she never gave up...that's the important part...and that is the intimidating part when you stop to think about it. (I guess I'm on her side cause I'm short too.)
ReplyDeleteIt's all about quality. Not quantity.
DeleteI guess all she wanted was a hug and a kiss lol
ReplyDeleteApt. Considering it was a 'honey' bucket! :)
Delete