I know how tall I am

I went to a Christmas party the other night. Good folks, good food, good laughter, good gifts. Met a few new people- which I always enjoy- and had the following mind-bending conversation with one of them. See if you can spot the social inconsistency…


By way of introduction, something must have come up about how tall something or someone was, because this person proceeded to ask how tall I am.

Me: 5’5″.

Him: Really? No… ‘Cause I’m 6’, so let’s see…

He then faced me and raised his hand up to measure where the top of my head reached against his own height, then stopped.

Him: Whoa. I’m sorry. That was so stupid. Why did I even do that? You know how tall you are. Why did I have to try to prove it? *laughs* Sorry about that.

Me: *blink… blink… blink…*


I seriously can’t get over how cool that was of him. *high fives that guy*

ETA: I just read this conversation to my mother and, after a brief bout of speechlessness, she marveled “A man believed you when you said something you knew to be true about yourself? That’s incredible!” We shared a laugh over it, but it pains me that this should be noteworthy.



  1. There must be something in the education of young men and boys, both socially and academic that leads to this. It has caused more friction in my 32 years of marriage than any other issue. Why can’t I just accept her perception and analysis as valid without verification?

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