Size matters?

 I come from a reasonably tall family - my Father was 6 foot 2 inches and my Mother (and her Mother) were around 5 foot 6 inches. Her brothers were also over 6 foot and my Father’s brother was also around 6 foot. So my 6 foot 4 inches is very much in keeping with the rest of the immediate family and A (around 6 foot 2 inches) and V. (5 foot 10 inches) have taken after me in terms of height (E. is just under  5 foot 6 inches but looks a lot smaller when the four of us get together!).

The reason for the topic is that V. came home yesterday talking about the school 6th Form opening evening where she was hosting one of the subject stalls (basically answering questions from prospective 6th formers and their parents about the A level course) and mentioned that one of the families she met were truly huge - it being quite unusually for her to be looking up to people at her school to talk to them She said that the son was probably a couple of inches taller than me but the Father was closer to 7 feet!

V. has always been fairly proud about her height and at one stage was contemplating hitting the 6 foot mark which sadly did not quite come to pass. I have always been happier to be tall rather than short although as I was tall from an early age I did not particularly  relish standing out in my awkward early teen years but certainly felt grateful for the advantages it provided as I got older and into my professional life.

I do however, recall, when travelling I think in Holland or Germany during my 20s meeting an extraordinarily tall chap who I basically only came up to the shoulder to. He was not a basketball player - just an ordinary businessman - but after a protracted conversation during which I was continually having to stare upwards to make eye contact,  I suddenly realised that this was the kind of challenge that some of my shorter friends and colleagues  might have in talking to me (and I guess re-emphasised just how grateful I should be to be tall….).