Stand Tall!

Although I was a normal size baby, by first grade I had a head start on everyone.

And by that, I mean I was a head taller.

Exhibit A: Here I am eight years old. My Yankee cousin, the dark headed one to my left is five. Texas Cousin, the blonde is four and the baby I am holding, a second cousin is, um, a baby. None of these cousins ever caught up to me. We discussed this last summer, but there is no explanation. I am a freak.

Next, as we go to Exhibit B: You will see, that at age seven it is no better. And we ain't that old fashioned or in a cult, it's a Wagon Train thang. Ramona, to my far right is less than a year younger than me. Her sister, clad in the diaper, is always photographed in a diaper. I've seen another photo of the three of us, and she's near naked there, too. I don't know if she refused clothes, or what. That's not the point.

I was the tallest student in seventh grade. Not the tallest girl, mind  you, but the tallest student. I was even taller than one of my BFFs, who grew to six feet. But not in seventh grade. She was still a shrimp, I guess.

I remember my best friend in first grade was Trish. She came to my shoulder. This is a photo of Trish and me at our 45th (!) class reunion, a few months ago:

As you can see, some things never change.

The only question I have is this: How did I survive without a complex? I don't even remember thinking I was taller than everyone else. 

The only explanation is I have also always been very nearsighted.