"I'm shorter than 90 percent of men," I cheerfully inform Kate. The top of my head stands just below the blue line.
"Nope, you're shorter than 95 percent of the population," she responds. Is His Height A Deal Breaker?
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"Ah, can't be," I stammer.
"It's right there. Ninety percent of men are in the blue stripe, five percent above and five percent below. You're in the bottom five percent," Kate says, not unkindly.
It is then that I realize I have condemned my future children to a life of holding the chalkboard sign in elementary school photos.
"Have you always been confident with women?" she asks me, her spoon swirling around a cup of frozen yogurt.
I eye her warily before answering. "Definitely," I bluster.
"Well then you support my theory. I think that shorter men are actually more confident than taller guys."
"But doesn't that just lead to little man's disease?" I counter. (LMD or the Napoleonic Complex is manifested in a shorter man who is hyper-aggressive and seemingly angry over his shortcomings. Never do shots with this type of guy.)
"It can in some cases. But I think if you take the average tall guy and the average short guy, the average short guy will be more confident. He has to be in order to get dates because tallness is just a default option for women. The tall guy never has to work as hard," says Kate.
I consider her theory while taking a bite and ultimately end up nodding my agreement. I know I better marry this woman.
Kansas City, MO, 2004. At Starlight Theatre in the Kansas City Zoo, twin brick parapets welcome more than 250 guests. White sconces hang over the stage. My wedding vows are short, written on scraps of hotel stationary moments before the walk down the aisle.
"I promise our children will be small, but plucky," I reply. Our guests roar with laughter.
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"I promise not to grow an inch," says Kate. It's a promise I will hold her to.