I can’t remember the last time anyone would have looked at me and said I towered over anything. Maybe when I was teaching elementary school, but I think that’s it.

I’m not a short girl. Or maybe I mean I’ve never thought of myself as a short girl? Or maybe that I wasn’t a short girl overall. Average height for as long as I can remember, that was me. A steady 5’5″. Well, 5′ 5 and a 1/2″ for the longest time, but I digress.

Meeting my husband made me feel pretty short. His dad was tall, too, and his sister’s husband (well, boyfriend back in the day) was even taller still. I’d gone from feeling solidly average to a wee bit on the puny side. Standing in that crowd really drove home the point of people towering over me. Or so I thought.

In reality I was just preparing to be the matriarch because I am now officially always the shortest in the room. My daughter only has an inch or two on me. BrightSide is tall as ever but now my son is a solid foot taller than me. Ain’t nobody arguing semantics of “tower” when I stand close to him.

We’re a motley crew and I love it.

Linda hosts Stream of Consciousness Saturday. This week’s prompt is “tower.” Use it as a noun, use it as a verb, use any way you’d like. Have fun!