First off, my apologies for taking so long for another installment in my constantly entertaining and true experiences. Tales that are so terrifying, and unbelievable, that to anyone above 5'5" they must appear science-fiction. But believe me, all these tales are true, and my purpose in writing them is that you may grow to appreciate what we go through, in our constant struggle against chairs too high for our feet to reach the floor, and cupboards to high for our arms to reach.
Today, I want to talk about doing chores...from a five-foot-three viewpoint.
I'm must say, I am immensely blessed to have the wonderful chore of laundry. Sure it piles up quickly if you stop doing it, and sure there are some pretty nasty articles of clothing one has to touch in order to put it into the washing machine. True the cycle never seems to end but hey: at least it's not washing dishes.
My favorite part about laundry is folding. Taking an hour and a half to match every single sock, making sure not a single trait is skipped out on. We certainly don't want a slightly longer hem with a semi-shorter one of seemingly identical socks. And forbid that we mix a navy-blue sock with a black one. It's like a little detective game. "You thought you could trick me didn't you seemingly similar sock packages of 20 that no longer come with any more than one matching pair of socks."
Ah yes, I feel like a true Sherlock Holmes when doing laundry.
But there is one aspect of doing laundry, not exclusive to it, but for my case is prominently found in doing laundry, that is all but loathsome to me.
(<--Yup, I'm an artist too, and that speck there next to the drawn cupboard was not a mistake...it was actually an artfully placed, rogue fly, and if you don't understand the depth and significance of its presence, you must be in altitudes where the air is thinner)
That's right...the terrifying, and ominous too-high cupboard. Either tall people are completely thoughtless when it comes to cupboards twice the height of us Shirefolk, or whether they find it funny to see us struggle, this is a horrifying idea. Placed so intricately, that your fingertips can barely open it, but not in your wildest dreams could you grab anything out, or as in my case, put something in.
Though, unlike any other resourceful person, I wouldn't think of grabbing a chair to put things away. Why is this? Perhaps it is my constant desire to overcome the daily evils inflicted by those taller than me. Maybe it is the ever present hope to one day meet a cupboard that is actually placed within reach. It could be that I wish to see the big folk suffer the consequences of putting something out of reach. But most likely, it is because I am too lazy.
Either way, those towels have to get in there. And what better way to get them up there than to throw the towels up there and slam the cupboard doors shut before they all come tumbling on top of me.
I now only wish I would learn not to be the first one to grab a hand-towel. Then I could really laugh at all them unsuspecting tall people.
Until next time,
5'3"
Today, I want to talk about doing chores...from a five-foot-three viewpoint.
I'm must say, I am immensely blessed to have the wonderful chore of laundry. Sure it piles up quickly if you stop doing it, and sure there are some pretty nasty articles of clothing one has to touch in order to put it into the washing machine. True the cycle never seems to end but hey: at least it's not washing dishes.
My favorite part about laundry is folding. Taking an hour and a half to match every single sock, making sure not a single trait is skipped out on. We certainly don't want a slightly longer hem with a semi-shorter one of seemingly identical socks. And forbid that we mix a navy-blue sock with a black one. It's like a little detective game. "You thought you could trick me didn't you seemingly similar sock packages of 20 that no longer come with any more than one matching pair of socks."
Ah yes, I feel like a true Sherlock Holmes when doing laundry.
But there is one aspect of doing laundry, not exclusive to it, but for my case is prominently found in doing laundry, that is all but loathsome to me.
(<--Yup, I'm an artist too, and that speck there next to the drawn cupboard was not a mistake...it was actually an artfully placed, rogue fly, and if you don't understand the depth and significance of its presence, you must be in altitudes where the air is thinner)
That's right...the terrifying, and ominous too-high cupboard. Either tall people are completely thoughtless when it comes to cupboards twice the height of us Shirefolk, or whether they find it funny to see us struggle, this is a horrifying idea. Placed so intricately, that your fingertips can barely open it, but not in your wildest dreams could you grab anything out, or as in my case, put something in.
Though, unlike any other resourceful person, I wouldn't think of grabbing a chair to put things away. Why is this? Perhaps it is my constant desire to overcome the daily evils inflicted by those taller than me. Maybe it is the ever present hope to one day meet a cupboard that is actually placed within reach. It could be that I wish to see the big folk suffer the consequences of putting something out of reach. But most likely, it is because I am too lazy.
Either way, those towels have to get in there. And what better way to get them up there than to throw the towels up there and slam the cupboard doors shut before they all come tumbling on top of me.
I now only wish I would learn not to be the first one to grab a hand-towel. Then I could really laugh at all them unsuspecting tall people.
Until next time,
5'3"
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