Carrie Petersen

I was at the grocery story yesterday and had one of those top shelf experiences that only short people have.

Among the items on my list was Parmesan cheese, not the fresh kind, the one in the plastic bottle that you keep in the cupboard. I wasn’t sure exactly where to find it but I figured the Italian pastas and canned tomatoes was a good place to look. So I did, but I didn’t find what I was looking for.

I asked a store clerk about the cheese and she directed me back to the same spot. Instead of arguing with her, that I had just been there and there was no cheese, I went back for a second look. And there it was, on the top shelf, about eight inches above my head. I stood on my toes and was just able to reach the container of cheese.

My grandma, who is also short (funny, this thing called genetics), once told me, “Why do you want to be tall anyway when most of the work is on the ground.” Well, I don’t know if that is true or really makes any sense, but it makes me feel good. That, a pair of high heels.

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