This might be the time to mention that Tom and I are shrinking at the same rate, which means I'm shrinking faster, because I'm younger than he is. We have both lost an inch and a half over the last decade. My ankle surgery may have put me on speed shrink, since one leg is now an inch shorter than the other, but I try to stand on the tall leg when Dr. Westermann's nurse, Laura, measures me. Frankly, I think Laura is reading the measurement from her low height--she is shorter than we are--and is getting it WRONG. Or she might have height envy. Some people do.
Sam, my youngest son, said she miss measured him by inches. He claims to be six foot, two inches. She said he was five, eleven or something. See, I think Laura has issues. Not me. Not Tom. Not Sam. LAURA HAS ISSUES.
I haven't been five, eight since seventh grade.
I hope I'm not moving backwards. That would mean I'd have to eat at Chuckie Cheeses again.
And go to the Golden Green Ball at age 12 with Link Bailey and dance in one large circle with my elbow folded in awkwardly on his shoulder, mashing my corsage. Junior Gold and Green Ball for ages 12 and 13. We danced cheek to cheek in 1954.
I must be standing on my short leg in the photo. Look How much shorter than Tom I am. I should only be a half inch shorter than he.
My gosh, I'm melting. I'm melting!