I am George Wilson, almost exclusively known to everyone as Georgie, and this is my story. It is a story I have been meaning to tell for a while now, but only recently have I been able or willing to get down to the effort. It is a story about my life, both as is as well as in relation to my friends and family. I hope that my sister will agree to write about her perspective every now and then, but unless I say otherwise, I will be the main narrator.

To cut down to brass tacks: I am 24 years old, and stand 18 inches high, weighing in at about 8 lbs. While my mother knew something was awry with the pregnancy at the time, she didnt know what precisely, despite her hardly showing a baby bump even on the eve of childbirth. Thus, after a full nine months in utero, when I first made my appearance on earth, the doctors were sure my mother had given birth prematurely as my size was 11 inches long, 1.5 lbs heavy, for the most part paralleling a premie. But six months into my stay in the hospital premie ward, I still hadnt grown more than a quarter inch, and the doctors were blaming my "failure to thrive" on my mother's supposed drug use. My mother steadfastly denied such claims.

The doctors were still baffled as how to diagnose my condition three months later, my size still not too much changed, but they couldnt deny that I was surviving, despite my tiny size, and so agreed to release me. In short (ha!), I entered my parents' home some 9 months after birth. My size was mostly unchanged but, my mother claims now, my personality shown and I supposedly brightened the home that had resided in gloominess for the previous several months. In any event, my physical growth was (excruciatingly) slow, but my brain was unaffected so that I was speaking by a year or so old, as most other children, but because my leg muscles were so small and underdeveloped I couldnt walk until I was 6.5 years old and had reached 13 inches tall.

By that time, my doctors were sure my condition was somehow related to primordial dwarfism, although an as-yet undetermined, if more intense, type. While my features are entirely proportional but tiny, my brain is thankfully unaffected, unlike most other PDs who suffer near-, if not total, mental retardation due to an extremely smaller brain. Thus, tiny as I was (and am!), I was (and still am) considered a legend in medical history. 

Clearly, I was too small to participate in most activities with children my age, or indeed many years younger (otherwise there was a great danger to my life; it is extremely humbling to be so small and delicate, and my parents, liberal as they may be, wanted to take no chances) so from the time I was 5 years old, I was home-schooled. Which meant a tutor would come for three hours every day and teach me what she could. She often left me lots of reading material, which I devoured on my own, as reading, not surprisingly, had become one activity in which I could truly excel. I wont say my life was difficult before, but even as a young child, tiny size meant life was no walk in the park.

Thankfully, my life definitely changed quite a bit when I turned 8, and I wont deny it was (and has been ever since) for the better. It was then that my sister, Alexandra, or Lexie for short (ha! she is anything but!), was born. She was on the large size for a newbie, although clearly much more in the "normal" range than I had been. Lexie entered this world at the height of 21 inches and 9.5 lbs. There are many pictures in my home of me lying next to her some hours after birth. To say it would be difficult to tell who was the newbie would not be exaggerating, for there I was, 8 years old and 14 inches long and 4.5 lbs, while my newborn sister was a staggering (to me!) 21 inches, or seven inches longer and some 5 pounds heavier.

So I can say that I was never *longer* than my younger (I've never used "little" for her) sister, although I was technically taller than her for the first 9 months of her life as until then she just lay on her back. Once she started crawling and then sitting, and finally standing up, I was her little doll for life. By the time she started walking, by age 15 months, she was already 34 inches tall (in the normal range, but rather tall, for most infants), and weighing nearly 25 lbs. Now, all these years later, fully grown, Lexie at age 16 stands 6'7 barefoot, 185 lbs and I am much below her knee in height. At 18 inches, even if I stretch my arm over my head and jump I cannot reach Lexie's knee. As hard as this may be to believe, it is still all too true that since my legs are so short, I can literally sit on Lexie's palm and my feet do not reach the end of her fingers! On numerous occasions, I have literally slept in Lexie's glove since they are so warm and comfortable.

I will allow Lexie to have her say soon, but I did want first to introduce to you my best friend and her family. Lauren Hayes and her family moved in next door to us when we were both 2 years old and she has been both literally as well as figuratively my closest friend all these years. While my parents are on the tall side of average (my mom stands 5'11 and my dad is 6'4), Lauren's parents are on the opposite end of the spectrum. Her dad is 5'3 and her mom is 4'10. Which is why Lauren never agrees when some moron calls her a dwarf or little person. She is certainly much smaller than average but, she claims, she doesnt have a dwarfism gene or condition, she is just the product of short(er) genes.

She stands in at a lofty 4'5.5 (or close to 137 cm as she likes to say; it just 'seems' taller) and weighs a mighty 78 lbs. Unlike me, who grew to my final adult height over a long time (I grew my last part-inch when I was 21, so it's been 3 years since any growth), Lauren had reached her final height when she was 14. Back then, the kids in her class already knew she was short, but it only became much more apparent over the next few years as the boys began to tower over her. She was then, and now too, considered very cute and many guys would try their utmost to woo her.

In her gorgeous shoulder length dirty blond hair, which she often wears in a bun, and her size 2 three-inch heels, a variety of which she wore almost every day of high school, she came up under most guys' shoulders, which was perfect for slow dances, if a bit annoying for kisses (or so they say; I wouldnt know). Lauren's younger brother, James, is 17 and 5'2, and close friends with Lexie; their younger sister, Kayla, now 14, is 4'11. So Lauren is indeed the shortest in her family, but no one there is huge.

My parents, and eventually Lexie, were often asked to help the Hayes' in changing a light bulb, or getting a pot from an upper cupboard, or the like. By age 10, Lexie, at 5'5 and 110 lbs, was ecstatic to help the little grown-up neighbors. At the same time, James, about the same age as Lexie, stood only 4'2 and was often embarrassed to be seen when Lexie came round to help, although they enjoyed each other's company and friendship at other times.

Most people want to know, most commonly, how I manage with (at least) three things: bathroom, travel and sex/relationships. I will try to describe how I manage these and other experiences as best I can.

Bathroom: until I could walk, it was no problem at all. I wore premie underwear, p-j's and pampers and that was my sad existence. Bleak, I know, but remember: every day that I lived was a kick in the face to those doctors who never really believed I would survive. Even as my legend "grew", and my size became famous, the doctors continually badgered my parents that my "failure" to thrive would not, statistically could not, continue. Death would come sooner and more heart-breakingly than imagined. So they said. Well, thank you very much, fuckers, I thrive very fine on my own.

Anyhow, getting back to my early childhood: My parents would clean me and bathe me in the bathroom sink, drying me with a hand-towel that was, of course, twice my size. As the years passed, and I started to walk, obviously I needed a toilet and bath that I could reach. Clearly, the regular house toilet was way too high -- even now, at 18 inches tall, I am eye-level with the lowest part; you can imagine when I was only 15 inches tall the seat was way out of eye range! Lexie, for her part, has been complaining for a few years now that the seat is much too low! -- and of course the sink and bath faucets were incredibly beyond my reach.

So when I was about 10 years old, and it had become clear that I would never "grow" up, my parents built for me a personal bathroom in a part of the walk-in closet in one of the bedrooms. The ceiling is 24 inches high and the plumber who devised and built the bath/shower stall carried it in by himself to attach it. The toilet is basically a small bowl (the size of a cereal bowl) that literally sits on the floor and has tubings that run to the water lines. For me now, as well as when I was younger, this was perfect. My legs now are 8 inches high to my belly-button so to bend myself down to a cereal bowl, or to aim for it as I stand, is rather comfortable.

I dont travel much (we will get to that soon) but one time I came with Lexie on an airplane she carried me with her into the bathroom when we both had to go. Airplane bathrooms are supposedly tiny to begin with (or so most people say), so when you factor in Lexie's incredibly long legs you can probably imagine that there is not too much "extra" space for normal people there. Luckily for me, I am incredibly small (and proud!), so as she sat down on the toilet, she set me on the floor (yes, obviously below her knee level) and handed me an empty paper coffee cup. She has seen me naked plenty of times, but I still like to maintain some sort of dignity when I can, so I turned around so she wouldnt see (although, as I've said, her knees and legs are so incredibly high and long that she probably wouldnt have been able to see anything any way) and did what I had to. My point is, I don't need a lot of space, or high facilities, to, umm, eliminate.

Like I said, I have the shower in my personal bathroom that fits me fine, and regular people (umm, by that I mean, regular-sized people) have to bend down and almost literally lay on the floor to even look inside. I said the ceiling inside is 24 inches high (my parents were optimistic I would grow close to that height; sorry to disappoint, Mom and Dad!) but the door to the room is just 20 inches high (on tip toes, on good days, I can almost barely reach the top). Which means Lexie, with her humongous feet, can almost completely block my exit just by laying in front of the door. Just to give some context, if I stand in front of her foot while it lay on the ground but pointed up, her big toe tickles my chin. I promise, more on that later.

But Lexie is incredibly kind (we will get to more detailed description of both her personality as well as her behavior towards me soon enough), and she would never do that intentionally. There was only one time I can remember, although I don't recall how old she was, when she fell asleep against the door and I was trapped inside for several hours.

Anyhow, regarding travel: well, as you can imagine, it is dangerous, and really difficult, for a tiny child or man, to walk outside with regular sized people, children or adults. So most of the time I do not leave my home. I feel bad about this at times, but I do realize it's for the best in the end, and I really do not feel like I dont have what to do at home. I am always busy.

When I turned 18, and, yes, embarrassingly enough, that coincided with my having finally (!!) reached puberty (I think the body just needed me to reach the 7 lb or 16 inch height mark for the physical changes to start and that only happened when I was 18. And yes, that was why I finally hit my growth spurt then -- dont laugh, in my entire life, I have only grown 7 inches, so that the fact that I put on 2 inches in a period of three years should definitely be seen as a spurt!), when I turned 18 I asked my dad about getting a specialized car and driver's license. We looked into different possibilities, including even tiny-sized electric wheelchairs, but nothing even came close to being ideal for my size.

It's fine, Lauren has to use pedal extensions, and she drives me around alot. Lauren actually complains about having to have them but she knows she couldnt reach the pedals without them. When she has tutored Lexie in driving, Lexie not only has to take off the extensions but also has to remove the front seat just to fit in. (Don't let my Mom know, but even Lexie, who is still too young for an official driver's license in my state, has given me rides when she and her friends manage to "borrow" a car from someone.)

Inside cars I have to be strapped into a baby's seat, because I am easily thrown, but sometimes when one isnt available, I end up being "stuffed" into someone's shirt just to hold me tight. When that someone happens to be a pretty girl, I do not deny that my pleasure far exceeds the potential uncomfortableness of such a situation.

I should also mention that for years, at least until I was 20, but it still happens even nowadays, my parents would put me in a backpack to carry me around. This may sound cruel, or even funny, but it does work and I do not mind at all. I would prefer being held in front, rather than on the person's back, since then I have no chance to see over their shoulders or hair from behind. But no infant's baby-carrier is small enough for me, so Lexie loves to put me in her satchel which she can carry on the side or in front of her, for my benefit. I remember the first time her friends saw her do that with me, and, yes, of course they knew me, and considered me a cutie pie, beforehand, but they just went absolutely gaga to see me like that. What can I say? Tiny is the new cool.

Almost forgot the best part: sex and relationships. Difficult but not impossible. I will elaborate soon. To be continued...

Sorry to have left you pining for more info on me yesterday. 

Yes, it is really hard to maintain a real relationship with someone else when you're shorter than their knees, and your voice is high pitched enough to be just annoying enough (I dont consider my voice to be screachy, but with vocal chords as tiny as mine, it is just bound to be high-pitched. It takes some time getting used to it, although I still believe there are some people who know me a long time and yet cannot often understand me). Girls, as you can imagine, find me cute as all hell, but it's more like cute in a baby way rather than cute attractive in a romance kind-of-way. At least, that's how I see it. Sure they'll come and pick me up and bring me to a club where we'll eat and dance a bit, and usually they'll even put me on a table or something that high so I can dance closer to their height, but that gets old pretty soon.

I am a great kisser, if I may say so myself, but it's hard to compete with guys who can out-muscle me with the pinky of their weaker hand. Since I need help and, let's face it, protection from lots of things, I also need to be dropped off at my home at a decent time (I do have a kind of doggie door to enter in from the back - obviously the regular door handle and lock are way out of reach for me - I still worry I will wake up my family if I come in too late), so my time for getting it on with girls is definitely limited. Also, let's not forget, that at my size, my proportionally sized member is not nearly enough to satisfy. But, like they say, it's not all size but method that is appreciated. Well, at least that's what I keep telling myself. 

In any event, I dont really have too many friends, girls or guys. Remember, I was home-schooled my entire life and I never went to college. It's not that I couldnt handle school intellectually, I am sure I could have, but practically things would be too difficult. I cant even pick up one of Lexie's textbooks, let alone all of them together, and she's still only in high school! Besides, what would I do with a college degree? Do you realistically think I could be a teacher? Or a doctor? Or a chef? I know, I know, people always counter with, "but you can do anything you set your mind to". Total crap. Sure, imagination is helpful and dreaming often leads to practical benefits, but real world practicality is more important. You cannot be a real tennis player, let alone an NBA star, or most anything else if you are only 18 inches tall, no matter how much you practice! What I can do, and get paid for while I stay at home, is computer programming. My hands are obviously too tiny to reach all the keys, but that just means it takes me longer. My work is no different than anyone else's. For that, I did not need a formal college degree.  

My point is that, while I may be a legend and even famous in my town, I dont really have close friends I "hang out" with (ha! as if at my size I could do such a normal thing as hanging out. It's really the little things -- funny phrase, that -- that I miss out on the most, being my size.). Except, of course, as I've mentioned, Lauren. Lauren has been coming over to "hang" with me since we were about 4 years old. Obviously, to her at that age, I was just a doll she would come to observe, and even later, since I couldnt yet walk, we'd talk and watch tv or movies but not much else. Once I began to walk - thank the Lord for that! - we'd play hide and go seek or tag or stuff around the house. I'd usually beat her since I could crawl into areas that she couldnt, but she still was amazed by and just loved my presence. When she started school and needed help with her homework she'd come by and I'd help her.

My parents are great but they're the kind who believe in letting the kids alone. Besides, my mother, who I dont doubt loves me dearly, is the type of person always flitting about and running and organizing many functions out of the house. So she wasn't home alot. My dad is the classic business man, suit and tie every day, out of the house by 6:15am and home late in the evening. All this was great for Lexie, by the way, but for me, it was less so. Once the tutor would leave me, I would count the hours till Lauren returned from school and would invariably stop by the house. Her parents, more traditional in the sense of normal hours in the home, still encouraged their children, starting with Lauren, to visit with friends, and neighbors, and be as sociable as possible.

Lauren has sure proved herself socially attractive to many people, but this is so more nowadays as she is an incredibly hot (yes, I can say that!) if tiny (well, to other people, but I can still say that!) human being. Back when we were kids, she was a bit more nerdy, but not the sharpest tool in the shed regarding school. So she'd come on a regular basis and I'd help her with her work. I am a math nerd, which worked out really well for Lauren as math was her worst subject, so my help was greatly appreciated. Haha, I remember once when we were 15, I had helped her learn a really hard equation, so to celebrate, we just randomly started dancing. Me, on the living room table, upon which we were working, and Lauren on the floor nearby. Well, like I said, Lauren is 4'5 or so (and at that age was probably just 70 lbs in weight), and at 15 years old, I was about 15 inches tall, but Lexie, 7 year old at the time, was a huge 4'9 and very clearly greatly outweighed Lauren, and happened to walk by the room just then. It had been embarrassing for Lauren to see a 5 year old grow taller than her, but several inches later, she was already used to it.  Lexie, as any curious 7 year old would, just came up to the table to see what was so entertaining, looked down at me dancing hilariously and at tiny, barefoot Lauren giggling uncontrollably, and without warning, picked me up, placed me on Lauren's shoulder, pulled my pants off and lifted Lauren onto the table! It wouldve been embarrassing if it hadnt happened so quickly and we werent in such a good mood, so thankfully thats all that happened then. We laughed together with Lexie, who then ran off to play, and Lauren picked me off her shoulder and rocked me in her arms and then planted a smooch in a mooooost pleasurable area. To me, that was a great day, and I for one, if you couldnt tell, remember it fondly. For it was then that I realized just how tall and strong Lexie was becoming.  

But this is all beside the point. The point I was trying to say is that although I may not have too many close friends, Lauren definitely is one of them, and our relationship over time has consisted of both friendship and romantic dallies as well. Lauren is truly an attractive woman and, like I've said, she has been wooed by guys ever since high school. As an adult, she works for the city transportation department.

She tells me how young kids, teenagers, always make comments in her vicinity about how cute it is that the "little girl" cant even reach the floor of the bus when she sits down, her feet dangling above by about 4 inches. Ha, I tell her, can you imagine what they'd say if they saw me? My feet dont even reach half the depth of any seat, let alone the floor beneath. When Kayla travels with her on the bus, it is usually Kayla who screams at those same kids and their nasty comments regarding her sister. Kayla, not exactly so tall but taller by almost 6 inches than Lauren, is a powerhouse of a girl when it comes to others disrespecting her shorter, and quieter, older sister. I can avow, you do not want to mess with her! And yes, I am really happy that Kayla too is my friend.

Most people in the neighborhood know me, but still stop, stare, point and whisper when they see me. Yet another reason not to venture outside too often. I like my legendary status, but, God, those annoying habits people have with regards people either physically or mentally different than them! So ya, I have lots of acquaintances, some friends, including a few close ones, but I have not yet met my someone special. I know I shouldnt hold out for someone of similar height (ok, no premies need fear me! lol) but 18 inches, 8 lbs is difficult for anyone to over- (umm, maybe that should be: under-)look!

Ok, I know most people want to get to meet Lexie already, so I will go ahead and call her into the room so she can give you her first-hand perspective on being up close and personal with a less-than-knee-high human being.

Hey everybody, Lexie here - Great to be here! I read all that the little guy has written, and OMG, I love him to pieces, the cutie-pie, but wow, he kinda exaggerates! At least on two things. He keeps saying he is 18 inches. I realize in the greater scheme of things, it's no big deal, but when you're that size every little detail counts. Much better to be as close to accurate as possible. So, trust me, we have measured him lots of times - it's so easy to do, it's almost comical - so we know precisely how tall the little man is. He is 45 cm on the dot, which works out to 17.7 inches, so, again, I know it's not a big deal, and I realize it's more convenient to just round up to 18 inches, but I don’t want anyone getting the idea that he's a quarter inch taller than he really is. 

Same with me. He wrote that I am "fully grown...6'7". It's true I am about 6'7 but no one knows if I won’t continue to grow. So no way he can know whether I'm "fully grown" as if that's my final height for life. I'm 16, for crying out loud, not 20. I got me some growing left to do! Well, I hope so, anyway. Chances are that I won't grow more, because face it, my dad's only 6'4, so how much taller could his daughter grow? But I love being tall and wouldn’t mind growing some more! That is, most days. Some days, however, I really wish I wish shorter, not Georgie-height of course (haha), but like 6 ft even. Being 6'7 means people are always making comments, or asking me stupid stuff. I know they are in awe, and mean no disrespect, but come on, that kinda stuff gets old really quick. Anyhow, yeah, I'm tall and living with a 24 year old who's the size of a newborn, maybe even a premie, is soo amazing, I can’t even begin to tell you. Well, I guess I have begun, but you get what I mean. Geez, when I look at pictures of real premies, like the micro kind, and I think of Georgie, wow, they are just totally alike. I mean Georgie by now has "grown" to a regular newborn's weight, but his length is still kinda like a premie. And his shoe size, OMG!, it's the same size as a micro-premie, you know, the kind that are like 1 to 3 pounds at birth. Not that they walk or really need shoes, but the companies make them for them, and their size is like 1-2 inches! Tiny tiny tiny! Yes, my little brother (whoops! he hates when I say that because it implies he is younger than me, but come on, give me a break, his size has never been greater than mine. As he's mentioned to you already, even when I just born I was way longer than him!! There are just so many ways in which he is NOT an older brother. Sure, he was born before me. But usually "older brother" implies he drives me around, or talks to me of dates he's had, or tousles my hair, gives me advice on life, or stuff like that. None of which Georgie has or can do. Wait, sorry, I take that back. Georgie does talk to me a lot about life, and helps me with homework a lot, just like any older brother would. The little man is a genius by the way. We kinda joke that God must have given him twice the brain but an eighth the size of a regular man!). Anyhow, yes, the little man (there, hope that's better) has feet that are just 2 inches long! Which means my pinky is longer than his entire foot! Together with 7 inch legs, trust me, he walks VERY slowly. Which is why we hardly ever let him just walk and instead pick him up to take him wherever. OMG, remember how I said I hate being my height sometimes since people are always staring and making comments? Just think what happens when he walks outside -- much worse! And then think about those rare occasions when he walks near me --- haha people get soooo confused! They look waaay up to me, waaaay down to him, and just can’t wrap their mind around the fact that not only are we related but that the tiny doll-man (is he even real?) near my feet is older than me!

One other thing he wrote kinda bothers me. He wrote I'm his "Giant" sister. Ok, obviously I am way taller than him, and taller than lots of people also. But there are lots of people as tall or even taller than me, it's not like it's I who am the freak of nature (sorry, little buddy!) Calling me "Giant" recalls to my mind, anyway, an ogre-like, the "fee-fi-faw-fum I smell the blood of an Englishmun" kind. I am definitely not like that. But yes, I am way taller (did I mention that?) than him. I think I would have even given him a run for his money in the height department even if he hadn’t been born with his condition. I mean, like I said, our dad is 6'4 so his children couldn’t be so much taller than that, right? Georgie may have been 6'7 maybe, maybe 6'9, but more likely 6'5, so I'd have had him beat anyway. Either way, though, it would've been fun to have an older brother like that. O well, I love the little guy sooo much just as he is. And there are just so many stories to tell about him, or us, I don’t even know where to begin.

Well, first off I should mention that both of us have to have our clothes special ordered. Me, I order most of my things online at Rock and Republic (yay!). There are other women my size so it's not like I'm their only customer. I do happen to have really really long legs. I don’t mean like the longest in the world, which is 52 inches, but I'm pretty dam close. I'm 48 inches long from heel to hip, which means, among other things, when our cutiepie neighbor Lauren stops by, if I happen to be in some heels, the top of her head just breaks my beltline! And yes, everyone always wants to know my shoe size. I don’t get the fetish, but whatever, I don’t mind. My feet are humongous and I hate them! They are 12 inches long which means I need like a 15 in mens, which is not terrible for sneakers, but finding a good pair of just regular girl shoes, or heels, stiletto or otherwise, is soooo hard. When I stand near Georgie, I think my big toe alone is as big as his entire foot! Which reminds me: to correct another thing he wrote: If I stick my foot up, heel on the ground, I cannot (easily) touch Georgie's chin -- I am definitely close to it, but not exactly. His head (tiny thing, I wrap it in my two hands and there’s still room there!) is like 4.5 or 5 inches long, so his chin is something like 13 inches off the floor. In any event, I can definitely see why it's intimidating to him. I would never, of course, intentionally block his exit from his tiny bathroom but I can see why he'd be scared of that too.

Getting back to ordering his clothes: like 15 years ago when my parents first started to order online, the company refused to believe the sizes that they had entered. They actually sent a rep to our house just to measure little G! But ever since then, his clothes are made to order. I joke that the people who make them must be tiny themselves because it'd be too hard otherwise to actually sew pants 7 inches long or underwear that could fit a Ken doll. (Haha I remember once my friend Becca asked me if we could dress G up in Ken's clothes. He's not that small, Bec! But wouldn’t you love it if he was? Umm, I said, seriously, he is a doll now, even at his size, why would I want to have him smaller? Calm down, I was just joking, Becca said. But I wasn’t too sure. She is a crazy one, my friend Becca; you definitely need to keep an eye on her.) When I wash his clothes in the machine, I have to pick up his shirts or pants with my fingers since they're so small! We do of course also have premie clothes for him, like literally a pjs or shirt that a 1-3 pound baby would wear. Also, every time he gets a new suit or pants, he comes to my room to ask if they look right or good. I have to bend down, squat actually, to look, but too often he's too low even for that, so I need to lift him (using one hand, by the way!) up to my bed or bureau so I can get a better look. When I do squat to look him over, if I am wearing a skirt rather than pants I know he is staring straight ahead at my undies, but seriously, he can't reach anything (his arms from shoulder to longest finger is 5.5 inches) so I figure what's the harm?

Ok, wow, I wrote so much but have hardly told you any stories. I will leave you one short one: My parents are big swim buffs so when they bought the house they got an olympic size pool put in also. I love it, we use it all the time! All except for Georgie. He is terrified! of pools. He won’t go near the ocean either. I don’t quite get it, but think about it...there are not too many pools in which he can stand in, and even the calmest waves in an ocean can easily carry him away quickly. But that's ok, we completely understand and respect him for it. I have promised him to teach him to swim, and it will happen soon, I am sure of it, but not just yet. Anyway, I like to invite my friends over a lot, and we swim or sunbathe on our deck. We look amazing in our bikinis, and walking around the deck we imagine we are walking down the runway at a beauty contest.  Anyway, once we were all just lying on our chairs, my feet were up on a chair nearby since beach chaise lounges are too short for me (boohoo! I know, it's crazy, right? sad but true). Anyway, the little guy was hanging out with us also. He's older than us but none of my friends care since G is like a little kid to us, doesn’t scare us a bit. So like I said, my legs were stretched out over two chairs, and G just walks under them to get to his chair. I'm like, Jenny, where’d the little guy go? And she was like, he totally walked under your pins, lady long legs! Sure enough, looking at G, he was smiling, giggling even, happy he had outsmarted his sister. Becca then got up, picking him up, turned him upside down, held him by his legs with one hand and threatened to drop his "tiny and sorry ass" in the pool. Obviously Becca was kidding, just meaning to scare the imp, but I've never seen G look so scared in my life! Realizing what was happening, I ran to Becca, and yelled at her to put him down. She complied but in the same second, by accident, G's tiny bathing suit fell off him and Becca was left with a tiny tiny naked man in her hands. I quickly ran over, grabbed G from Becca, picked up the bathing suit and rushed G to the side where I helped him back into it. Thankfully, he wasn’t too embarrassed though, since unfortunately this kind of thing happens all the time and me and my friends have seen him less than fully clothed lots of time. Still, it was an experience none of us want to see repeated, for the benefit of the little guy. We really do love him to pieces.   

Lexie here again. 

Ok, so very often the little guy has to scream so that I can hear him from way down where he stands. The huge height difference between us, and his tiny voice, and the fact that he is so tiny and weak I can barely feel him if he touches my leg, all combine so that to be aware of and acknowledge his existence near my ankles and to actually hear him, or talk to him in a regular dialogue while we are both standing up on the ground, is really an effort for both of us. Since like I said his reach upwards is just barely over 18 inches, since his arms are just barely long enough to extend beyond his head (I know, he must just barely reach around enough to wipe himself!), and his feet are so tiny, that even with him standing on his tippy toes he cannot reach anything 20 inches high or more. By contrast, my legs, as I’ve mentioned, are 48 inches long, so my knee is like 24 inches off the ground, which means he cannot touch my knee at all! O, and just forget about it when I wear heels (yes, I like to and the fact that I'm really tall shouldn’t matter!) Now, he is close to knee height for most people, but with me, he is just unbelievably out of his league. I even have boots that are taller than him! I'm pretty sure he can reach Lauren's knee, but that's not saying much. He is waist-high to most of the 2 or 3 year olds I babysit at the house. Haha that reminds me: once I was babysitting this kid - the parents bring the kids to my house so I can basically "babysit" G (by which I mean, get him things he would have a real hard time getting to on his own, like food from the fridge or books he cant hold, let alone take down from a shelf) at the same time. Anyhow, this kid was about 3 years old, and I was sitting at the kitchen table doing some work, while the little girl played nearby. G was walking by and happened to walk under the chair that I was sitting on (he does that a lot; I guess it's easy for him to get to places like that; even, like in my story yesterday, if there are boxes and stuff that would normally block his access). The kid noticed the tiny human, maybe thought it was a walking doll, and wandered in to the kitchen and then just stared at G as he was meddling under my chair. As he tried to push my legs apart so he could walk through under the chair, the little girl, wide-eyed with wonder, just blurted out "hey, why are you so small?" I guess G could tell you more, but that kinda question he probably hears a lot, especially from kids, but for whatever reason G then was too flummoxed to answer. So I lifted little G to my knee, set him on my lap, and said to the girl, "hey, that's not nice. Why are YOU so small?" This seemed to satisfy the little girl and then she asked if she too could hold "the little doll man"? I was like, "no, no, Alison, he is my brother, and you cannot hold him. Would you like it if every big person picked you up all the time?" G, meanwhile, was trying to disengage and jump down from my grasp, and looked up at me in gratitude, but with a look that said "put me down already!" I slowly set him down on the ground, from where he looked up, could only see my knee, but not my face, so moved closer to Alison in order to look up at me and speak to me. Alison, looking down at the little doll at her waist height, patted and then kissed his head, and said "goodbye little doll man". That just made me and G laugh outright. You may ask whether this is humiliating to a 24 year old? Well, I guess in many ways it is, but there is not too much he can do about it so he makes the best of things. I really admire him for that.   

Again, by contrast, my reach is pretty high. If I stand barefoot in a standard basketball court, I can easily touch the net. And with just a bit of effort I can jump to reach the backboard. I don’t actually like to play basketball too much (does that surprise a lot of you? everyone always seems to think the tall girl must be great at b-ball. Nope, sorry, not this girl.) So while I don’t play too much, I don’t think I could dunk, but who knows? maybe if I practice I could do it. I do love to go to games. The Grizzlies are set to play here soon and I'm already reserving two tickets, for me and G who loves to watch games, both live and on TV. I've lifted him up so he can touch the net but I think a standard size ball is too much for him to hold (not weight-wise, just circumference wise). OMG I really want to meet Marc Gasol, I think he's amazing and a hottie too!!! It will definitely be funny to see G in the middle of me and Marc, since Marc is 7'1, I'm 6'7 and Georgie is...nearly 18 inches. Hellooo down there!! Hahaha. No, but the sport I like most, is volleyball. Seriously, I play really intense. Our team won nationals this year. When we won that game, I ran over to the side of the arena grandstand seats where my parents and G were sitting, some 7 rows up, and high fived my parents and G. Finally, G was able to kiss me as we both stood, since I bent towards him only a bit. When I high-five him, I think it’s so funny, since my hand covers not only his entire face but his torso too. But I think I understood the look he had on his face then as admiration, and pride, but also not a little intimidation since my body was probably steaming sweat at the time. James was there too, and so were my girlfriends, since they always come to my games. I've already mentioned to you Becca and Jenny, but almost all of the girls I hang out with are between 5'4 and 5'10, you know, standard height. Come to think of it, my neighbor Lauren may be the shortest female I know. She wears her shortness well, that I must say.  You know, I wish there was just one girl, or even guy, who was 6 foot or more. It gets a little lonely up here. Haha nah, I'm good just where I am. James is so cute when he's with us. We're all much taller than him, obviously some of us much more than others. But he always brings us good food, and he's an amazing friend and guitar player. If any of my friends is going to end up a rock star, it's gotta be James. We love him, even if not quite in the romantic way, given his being so short. I know, I know, I shouldn’t say that, since, first, it's not nice. And then more importantly, since my older brother is the definition of short. But what can I say? That's how I feel. There's no apologizing for the way you feel. Think about it: James is 5’2, and I am 6’7, that’s a difference of about a foot and a half. I’ve heard of relationships where there is a significant height difference, but never that much, and besides, usually it’s the guy who towers over the woman, not the other way around. And, anyhow, I do love both James and Georgie, in different ways. I'm just waiting for that 7 foot knight in shining white armor! Hmm maybe Marc Gasol wouldn’t mind fitting that bill? 

Getting back to my brother. He can't reach me if I am lying on my bed. He can't even reach my nose, let alone my shoulder so he has to shout to get my attention if I happen to be sleeping. My parents always keep their door closed at night, but I never do, since, like I've said already, I don't mind at all if the little guy sees me less than fully dressed. He can't reach anything important and, to be fair, I've seen him in his itty bitty birthday suit, so there's not much left to imagination. So anyhow, when he does scream to get my attention, since I am a pretty heavy sleeper, he needs to shout for a while or really loudly, and then usually what happens is that I open one eye, look way down, see the little imp, reach down really quickly and playfully grab him before he can get away. Usually he has a request, like to get him a glass of juice or something, which I am happy to do. Problem is, at least my Mom has referred to it as a problem, is that I sleep without a bra (hey don’t judge!) so when I groggily get up to help the little guy, my girls are front and center for all to see. Well, it's not that bad, I think, since G can barely see beyond my knees, let alone all the way up my chest. Sure, he knows I don’t have a shirt on, but he can hardly see anything else. Which is also why I have no problem with him standing directly in front, or beneath me, when I am wearing a skirt, say, so that theoretically all my goodies are visible to anyone standing below them. But, again, my legs are so high up there is not much he can see clearly. I know he made it sound like he gets "action" every now and then, but I really kinda doubt it. If the only fun he has is that he can see, or hope to see, some of my panties, I think I can live with that. Also, trust me, his little bathroom must be great, but it doesn’t always work.  I've helped my mom when she has had to wash G in a little tub in the bathroom sink since he can't reach the faucets in the main tub. If you thought he was cute normally, you should see him when he is being bathed. We never actually described what G looks like. Suffice it for now to say that he doesn’t have a lot of body hair, and has no muscle development to speak of, so when he is wet he looks like as innocent as a brand new newborn.   

Georgie back. Miss me much?

Ok, just came back from a ride to the mall. Lexie drove...her bicycle and I sat in the basket in front. She lines the inside of the basket with rubber-kind of stuff so it's comfortable and I even have my own size helmet I wear. When we got there, she took me out and set me on the ground and then started to walk to the mall. She walks FAST, that's all I know. By the time she got three cars down, I guess she remembered how tiny my steps were in comparison to hers, and turned around, stopped and smiled at me, as I walked at my own pace. I thought you were gonna forget me here, I said, breathing hard. Georgie, I would never do that to you, big guy. Sorry for my long legs, sometimes I forget just how tiny yours are. She bent way down to below squat position and picked me up, kissing me on the way up. Her ample chest provided just the right amount of softness as she buried my face there while hurrying into the building. 

It's hard for me to walk among as many people as usually are at a mall. Usually when I'm there, my friends or parents hold me. This time, however, Lexie hadnt thought of bringing along her backpack so I couldnt be carried on her back. Her purse was too full to accommodate me. So she carried me a good part of the way, but then got tired (I didnt realize normal people could get tired holding about 8.5 lbs but I guess that's bound to happen if theyve been carrying me, umm the weight, for a while) so she set me down at her feet. Lexie was wearing her cowgirl boots, heels and all, so my head just barely topped the boots. Looking up at her knee, I noticed the pants material starting to fade, thought of telling her, and then decided against that. I am her “eyes” for below her knees, but I needn’t bother her with such trivia just now. Looking down at me from her height, Lexie just said, G, walk at your own pace, I'll be back in a few to find you. 

Now, I like to go to the mall to just see people, rather than be locked up in my house all the time, but it's kinda intimidating when everyone, and I do mean everyone, can crush you by stepping on top of you. I got jostled about a lot, just walking to the ice cream counter a few feet away. O great, how am I going to order anything here? The girls behind the counter definitely couldnt see me but a kid, I'd guess about 10 years old, saw me almost immediately and rushed over. 

Hey, you're Georgie, the tiny man, right? 

Umm, I guess, though I didnt realize I had gained a title in my fame. 

Do you need help getting ice cream? 

Yes, why thank you. I would love some mint chocolate chip, please? 

By this time, the girls behind the counter heard the kid speaking to something below their line of vision and therefore walked around to see who it was. I dont think 10 seconds had elapsed since the kid asked to help me and I was suddenly surrounded by about 20 pairs of....knees and legs. 

Such a tiny man! Look at him! He doesnt even reach my belt, momma! Is he real? Can I get one for Christmas? Please momma? 

Eventually, one of the counter girls smartly moved aside the "crowd" around me and bent down to ask my order. I gave it, and even handed her the right amount of change. O, I cant take this from you, she said. You just brought us a ton of business! Well, hmm, I thought to myself, maybe I should get out more? Could be good for my wallet, hehe. Then, just as she brought round for me my cup of ice cream, Lexie rushed up and squeezed me tight.

So glad I found you! How did you rush off so far from where I left you? I thought you had gotten lost, or trampled, big guy. She looked genuinely worried.

When she stood up, she walked over to the counter, and ordered a vanilla cone for herself. 

Lexie, is that you? 

Umm, exactly how many 6'7 girls do you know? Of course it's me! Since when do you work here, Emily?

O, I've worked here for a few months! Is that your brother over there? 

Yes, that's Georgie, famous little guy. Looks like he caused a ruckus here. Sorry about that!

Not at all! Why are you apologizing? It was actually great for business when people rushed in here to see the tiny man. We sold close to 20 cones in the three minutes. God, he is such a cutie! How old is he again?

O, the little guy is 24. But we like to think of him as negative three months. You know, premie age. Hehehe

Holy crap, Lexie, I'm tiny but I can still hear, you know! Give me some credit, I'm standing way below you, but I'm still here! 

Emily rushed around the counter, bent down and shook my hand (with her pinky, but still), saying in the process what a privilege it was to meet me and that she'd have to ask her manager, but she could almost guarantee me a free cup every time I'd stop by. Wow, I didnt know even how to respond to that. Above my head, Lexie's knee bent and kinda tapped me on the head, as her voice from way above me, prodded me "say thank you, big guy." Umm, thanks Emily! You rock. 

So humiliating to be treated basically as a baby by your baby sister! And in front of a hot girl, no less! One that was at least somewhat interested in me. But hey, welcome to my world.

Emily, still bent low, high fived me. Love it when a hand is shoved in my face, completing covering it, and all my torso too. Umm, no. It's much worse when Lexie does it, since her hand is enormous, but it's never fun, no matter who, and no matter the positive energy behind it.

Anyhow, after that Lexie held me, or at least walked very close to me as I walked too, and then we went home.

As we walked in, we realized Adam, from down the block, and his horse (ok, dog, but to me it's the same) had stopped by. I always try to avoid dogs, since they are invariably either my size or much taller, and then there's just way too much sniffing, and even licking, that kinda disgusts me. Which is why our family doesnt own a dog, even though my dad and Lexie really want one. Even cats I dont like too much since theyre not too much shorter than me, but are constantly rubbing up beside me, with their tail shot up in the air way above my head. It always makes me feel like theyre totally getting off on me. If you're tall and that happens to you, well, I guess you probably just brush it aside, because it doesnt really affect you so much. But at my size, cats that are shoulder height to me and way out-weigh me, rubbing themselves off on me, just makes me want to puke. I dont mind if cats or dogs are nearby, as long as they dont come too close to me. Once I literally jumped so high in fright as a dog approached me that I ended up halfway up Lexie’s thigh and then I just climbed her leg higher, until she picked me up and off her, holding me way out of reach of the panting dog. 

Anyhow, Adam usually wants my mom or dad to allow him to mow the lawn and stuff, obviously for pay. And they usually do, although I am almost sure it is mostly to just get him out of their house. He is a nice guy, Adam is, but he usually talks too full of himself and has numerous annoying habits I wont get into here. Adam's dog, Tigger (yes, really, that's his name!), is nice too, as far as dogs go, but again, I dont like them near me, including Tigger. I think Tigger at least senses this, so he doesnt rush at me like lots of other dogs do, thinking I am food or something they need to sniff. I'd like to think Tigger respects me, but who knows?

Adam was there to see whether I could help him with his computer which had kinda died the night before. Sure, I said, just keep Tigger away from me. No problem, little man. And then he promptly picked me up without warning (I hate when people do that!) and sat me on top of Tigger! How in hell is this keeping him AWAY from me, Adam?? I nearly screamed out my lungs on that one. I usually need to raise my normal speaking voice, if not actually yell, in order for most people to hear me. Plus, this time I was really pissed. Just messing with you, G, dont get all tangled up. God, I thought, this is going to be a long afternoon.

Lexie, off in the den nearby, having changed into really short shorts, long legs stretched out on the couch, just smiled, and waved to me as I left with Adam. All I know is, she better come get me soon!

I had just returned from school, and I was just getting settled in at home. I heard Lauren and G talking, laughing in his room, when the doorbell rang. And rang again. Jeez, whoever it was, seemed anxious. I walked barefoot to the door, bent down to look through the peephole, and inhaled slowly. Two boys, young men, in white shirts and ties with books in their hands, stood at the door. Dam, Mormon initiates again. I knew they were only 19, not too far away from 16, and oftentimes they were cute. But, honestly, I find them creepy. I don’t know why, but I think it began when I was 9 or 10 and already 5'3 or 5'6. Now I know now I look probably a little older, more mature than 16, thanks to my height, but back then? I was just an awkward and tall kid. The two guys at the door, however, one about my height, the other just a bit taller, seemed not to realize, or care about, my age, and kept talking and leering at me the entire time. I felt really uncomfortable and ever since then I try to avoid opening the door when they come around. It's cool when my parents are home, but this time, they were there and my parents weren’t in, and G never opens the door (not just because he can’t reach the handle, but also because it is a potential danger for him to do so. Think how easily he could be kidnapped!) and I couldn’t just let them ring and ring. So it had to be me. On the spur of the moment, I decided to pull a trick I had tried once before.

I screamed, "one minute!" to the door, as I ran down the hallway (our house is basically one floor long, except for the den and my room a couple steps down. This is so G doesn’t have to always be going up or down stairs. For someone his size, that means jumping or pulling himself up every single step. No steps are built for someone with 7 inch long legs.) Anyhow, as I ran down the hallway, I quickly pulled a random bandana and wound it around my head like a Romanian peasant, put on some heels, and ran into G's room in a panic. Lauren was sitting on the floor, talking to G, as the little guy was sitting on his bed (The lowest frame bed we could order for him was, together with the tiny mattress, 10 inches off the floor. Which meant it was too high for him to climb into it. So we added special steps, 1 inch high, perfect for G's legs. If I tried to sit on it, first, I think I'd break my back trying to lower down so much; and second, I would for sure break the bed. Little things like that are not meant for people close to 200 lbs! Which reminds me, maybe I should lose a few? I don’t know, my BMI is ok, and I realize I’m tall, and 185 isn't 200 but it's awfully close and 200 is too huge a number for me to process well.) Panicking, I panted, Quick, you two, I need your help! At both of their sizes, trust me, I have done a lot of helping them, so they are usually fine with my asking for their help every once in a blue moon. As I began telling them the situation, I grabbed G without warning (I know he hates that, but this was an emergency!) and within 4 seconds had stripped him of his pants, shirts and underwear. I held G face down in my right hand, as I grabbed one of the newborn pampers I keep just for these type of situations. (Don’t tell my mom, cause she wouldn’t be too happy about it. She thinks G should never be treated as a baby. Mothers! You gotta love em, but they don’t understand aaaanything!)

As I fitted G into one, I couldn’t help but notice a hardness I felt from his body as it lay in my hand. My hand is enormous, as has already been mentioned, so G's penis lay in the crook of my palm, near the wrist, as my longest finger covered his nose. And - was I crazy? I didn’t dare turn him over so we could see each other's faces - I felt the hardness still. G's cock is 1 inch long when it gets hard, trust me, I've seen the little thing in action. It's so cute, tiny and stiff that way, cuter even than when it's smaller and less, ahem, ready. But I was confused: was he really turned on by me, his baby sister? Or was he hard already from before, talking (or whatever) with Lauren? I couldn’t really concentrate on that question just now, as there were two guys waiting at the door, but I would definitely like to ponder that situation at a more convenient time. I motioned for Lauren to kick off her shoes, put on her special tank top for just these situations, and to put her hair into matching pony tails.

Now, we haven’t mentioned this yet, since it never came up, but Lauren is nearly as flat as a board. I, on the other hand, am more blessedly endowed. I am not huge in the boob department, but I have a modest rack, if I may say so myself, especially for a tall girl. I usually pull a D, and I may need even bigger after this past summer, since which time I haven’t really measured myself too carefully. In any event, Lauren is tiny there, and in a good outfit, such as a tank top which shows off...nothing, she easily passes for a young, I would say 7 or 8 year old. (Haha that reminds me: when I was 7 or 8 and already 4 or 5 inches taller than Lauren, then aged 15 or 16, she used to be embarrassed to notice that my buds were growing in bigger than her bites. I'd kid her about it, but it obviously bothered her quite a bit for a while. Since then, however, she has grown ok with her body and usually has no problem when I bend and lift her in a bear hug, so that my boobs cover her face.)

So all of us properly outfitted, I walked with the two 24 year olds (G in my hand, head against my shoulder, little pampered butt protruding upwards in proper infant pose) to the door. Opening it to the two young gentlemen there, they noticed me, young too but incredibly tall and obviously with children, one especially young one in my hands, or shoulder rather, the other, a tiny girl of 7 or so, just barely as tall as my waist. The two young men, both in the 5'9-5'10 range, quickly started on their standard, Book of Mormon spiel, asking if they could come and discuss it with me. Burping G, and holding him high above me, smiling at him although not looking at his eyes lest we both break out in laughter, I told the young men I was busy with my two children, and would they be kind enough to return another time. They reluctantly agreed, still leering at me (was it my youth? my height? my beauty? well, I'd like it if it was the last, I have to admit!), as if the two children by my side weren’t there, smiled, left their Elder cards with me and went on their way. I had already pulled this trick with G and Lauren too once before, so we were all delighted at how smoothly the show went this time. 

We three have pulled a similar stunt several times to get into movies for one ticket, rather than three. This was at Lauren's initiative and thus forms one of the experiences wherein I have helped Lauren. As mentioned, Lauren works for the city transportation department as its logistics specialist, which she enjoys but the pay is nearly peanuts. Thus, she tries to be as careful with expenses as possible. Hence, she still lives with her folks and when she wants to see a movie, it can get prohibitively expensive if she doesn’t pull some tricks. Thus, several times Lauren has asked me to come with her and Georgie to see a movie. Usually I put Georgie in my backpack anyway to carry him from place to place so Lauren asked if he could stay in the bag until after we were seated. As we approached the ticket window, Lauren removed her shoes so she would look even shorter, and instructed me to act as if I were her older sister and was babysitting her, and to ask the ticket person if he minded if she came along (no charge, please). O sure, the ticket man didn’t mind, the movie wasn’t close to sold out so it was fine if she sat near me, just be sure not to disturb the people watching the movie, sweetheart. Lauren nodded her head, and hugged me (well, my midsection to be exact), and I pulled her up so to carry her in. I don’t consider myself especially strong, but lifting about 75 lbs is no trouble at all! O, one last thing, I asked the ticket man, can I have a booster seat since my sister here can’t see the screen without one (completely true, by the way)? Thus, the 16 year old walked in to a movie that she herself may not have gotten in to see because of her age (but ticket people never ask really tall people for their driver’s licenses or other ID, assuming they must be old enough since they are so tall), carrying two 24 year olds, who got in despite their age. Hahaha. Once I sat down (I always sit as far back as possible since I am so tall and would block the view of anyone behind me), and put Lauren down on the booster seat near me, I took G out of my bag and set him on my shoulder so he could watch the movie that way. Obviously, no matter how high the booster seat, there is no way an almost 18 inch tall man is going to see over a seat that is much higher than him. When G does sit in one of the regular movie seats, first his feet don’t go past half the depth of the seat, and his head doesn’t come up any higher than my hip (ok, fine, butt fat), so obviously that is far below the top of the seat in front, not even counting when someone sits in it. Sitting on my shoulder though, even though the top of his head doesn’t come up as high as my eyes, it is still plenty high enough for him to see the movie. Anyhow, this is the way the three of us see a great movie for the price of one. It definitely is fun being the tallest by far when I'm with my brother and his best friend!

Just got back from the annual Little People of America national conference, this year in Boston. I've gone with my parents pretty much every year since I was 8, together with Lexie of course. It is by far the highlight of my year. When I was younger I would look forward to next year's events from the day after this year's ended. The reason is simple: for a few days each year I get to spend them with lots and lots of my own kind. OK, no one else is too near my size, but it's still comforting to be able to hang with other people, often your own age, to whom you don’t have to be eye to knee with and who have experienced similar, if not identical, things. It's true, even among my own Primordial Dwarfism group, I am a celebrity though, because it's not every day people get to see a real live 18 inch tall adult. Most of the adult primordials are in the 28-36 inch range so they're still a good foot or so taller, and the heights of the other types of dwarfism represented there range all the way to 4'9 or so. 

Lauren should so get over herself and just join us, but whatever, that's her business. She came one year, when we were 14, and I guess that that was traumatic enough to scare her away. In any event, the most common form of dwarfism, and obviously of conference attendees, yields a height of about 4 foot or so. But that's still way better than my being in a room full of 5 foot something or taller people. Lexie of course comes every year too, and my mom has promised to take her sometime to the Tall People of America conferences, but she's still too young for that. In any event, she loves to come with me to LPA events, and she's made lots of great friends, not only because, umm, if I may say so myself, she's a hottie, and not only because she's the tallest person ever to attend LPA conferences which kinda grants her too celeb status, but she's just genuinely so personable. She's made lots of friends her own age there and even my friends there all love her. She has to sit down so that she doesn't literally tower over everyone (ok, over me she still towers, but hey), but even sitting she's heads taller than most of the people. It's kinda cute to see her surrounded by LPs who are all looking up, some of us waaay up, just to see her face. 

My mom and dad couldn't come this year, as they went on a two month work/vacation thing to Tuscany, so Lexie accompanied me alone. I guess you could call her my handler, since I really do need her to get me stuff, but I usually don't use that term as it implies, I think, something a bit unnatural or inhuman, as if I was a hamster or something. Anyway, to get there we went by plane. I think I've mentioned this already but since I am so little and take up hardly any space on a plane seat, I usually just travel as a new born, with a travel car seat and all. It ends up cheaper for us as well and the airlines wouldn't know the difference. Lexie gets to (that is, requests way in advance) sit up front with no seats in front of her since her legs go on forever and would be way too cramped in a regular aisle, and my new-born travel seat is attached to the wall for her to have easy accommodation. When she needs to go to the bathroom, naturally she takes me with her and I stand in front of her mammoth legs as she sits to do her stuff. The toilets are much too big for me to fit on, so I just pray I don't have to relieve myself that way while en route.

Getting to the hotel, we were a bit overwhelmed as the receptionists just couldn’t get over the fact that the 25 year old (did I mention that my birthday was in the beginning of May?; for that matter, Lexie's was July first, so she is 17 by now) teeny tiny adult standing on the marble countertop, as the stepladders placed in front specifically for the special sized guests were still substantially insufficient for him to see over -- that tiny adult is the older (!!!) brother of the unearthly tall teenager looking down at him as he signs them both in! The young girls working the reception counter just wanted selfie after selfie with the incredibly varied siblings, and of course we didn't let them down! I am sure they were trained not to pick up the guests for that week, no matter how cute or even helpless they may have looked, but I always tend to make humans forget their manners. The girls were all over me, and begged Lexie (wait, what? Lexie is with me, damn it, she's younger than me, why are they asking her permission to pick me up??) to allow them to pick me up for some selfies. Lexie, for her part, is used to this sort of reception and politely allowed them two, but only two, pics. She can be firm when she means to be, and I love her for it. Meanwhile and simultaneously, the male bellhops were all fawning over Lexie, asking her if they could get her a drink (umm, dudes, what about this little guy down here? I wouldn't mind a cold soda now if you don't mind. Whatever. I'll share with Lexie), or take her luggage to wherever in heaven she must have just fallen from? (O, slick, guys, but ewww! she's 17, for crying out loud!) Whatever. I don't deny that Lexie is hot, and not just for the tall hawks out there, and this type of behavior happens to her all the time. She loves it -- hey, who wouldn’t? -- but definitely uses it to her advantage.

We were happily alone, and getting comfortable in the room within 10 minutes of the receptionist "show." We realized pretty quickly that, Lexie having grown since last year (she grows around 3 inches per year, lucky shit) her legs just wouldn't fit on the bed (even the hotel size, which is bigger than normal). Since I, of course, don't need a whole bed for myself, a simple pillow is more than long and wide enough for me, we realized it would make more sense to place "my" bed in an L shape adjacent to Lexie's so that she would have that extra long space for her extra extra long legs. I would happily sleep on the floor on the pillow since even though the hotel had thoughtfully provided a stool for all beds of LPA conference guests, the stool was simply not high enough for me to climb my way into the bed. Therefore, after a few minutes respite we called the front desk to send help up to move the beds to our desired shape. If I thought the bed situation was bad, however, the bathroom and shower situation was even worse. It's true, there too the hotel had placed plastic stools for their special sized guests to utilize, but the toilet was simply too high and wide for me, the sink and the shower faucets were just way beyond my reach. Lexie and I resolved that the only way for this to work was for her to help me in the shower. Now, I've had help in the bathroom before, on the rare occasions when my special sized bathroom won't work, but well, I'm still a guy, and getting nude in front of your baby sister is still...weird. But she'll tell you all more about that.

Well, the conference is pretty cool. There are all sorts of sessions, both for the specific group (dwarfism type) you belong to, as well as general ones. There's a bunch of medical advisors and talks and just general issues we LPs kinda live with all the time. Of course, there's also a dance, which is better for me than most other dances I've been to, since I don't have to stand on a stage just to be in height range of the girl I'm with. You can imagine that 18 inches is nowhere near the height range of a 5 foot or something girl. Here, even though I'm still way shorter, I come up to the girls' waists or sometimes, if I'm lucky, lower abdomen. Photographs always show Lexie in the background, sitting down of course, but still smiling and looking down at the various couples all having a great time, around her. I do remember this year, Jeremy, one of my friends, my age, walking over with just a bit too much swagger and asking Lexie to accompany him to the dance floor. Now, Jeremy is 3'5, maybe 75 lbs, and looks like a miniaturized version of John Travolta so I guessed Lexie was intrigued, and not a little bit flattered, that such a cool guy asked her out. What do girls always say? It's self-confidence that is most attractive to them? Well, Jeremy exudes confidence. When they danced, Jeremy was (literally) all over Lexie's legs, below her waist but close enough that she kinda had to keep him at arm's length (and, yes, I know, arm's length to Lexie is a long way away) every so often. But whatever, she enjoyed it, I could tell, and Jeremy's face after? OMG, he seemed to be in heaven. 

There's also a great talent show where the kids mostly show off their modeling or singing talents. Finally, there's a huge banquet for all conference guests. Great food! Not that I can eat too much, my stomach is just too tiny to accommodate too much food all at once. But I do love to eat, and the steaks there were out of this world. Lexie by contrast seems to have a bottomless pit for a stomach, she is constantly eating. And yet she is still really thin. Most people are amazed at how she does it. Well, it kinda helps being a giant to eat and not gain weight. Speaking of which, I wish I could gain. I still can't break the 8.5 pound mark, which is ok but being a bit more could help me in trying to gain muscle. O well. Tiny rocks, that's all I have to say.

The last day of the conference is the saddest since we all have to say goodbye to each other. Guys and girls who I've known for like over 15 years, and I probably won't see live, in person, for a full year. My friends. Back home, Lauren is a great friend, but there are not too many others I can count in that category. So it's hard. Anyhow, Lexie lifts me so we can travel to the airport and back home. In her arms I feel comforted, and I fall asleep there rather quickly as the plane lifts off.

Hey, I know it’s been a few weeks, sorry bout that, but I still needed to tell you guys about our visit to the LPA conference in July. Well, as you know, my mom and dad left for a few months in Tuscany. That’s where my Dad grew up and Mom and Dad go back every so often, and G and I have gone with them for short trips too. This time my Dad had business reasons to go so they’ve both gone for what was supposed to be just two months, but now has developed, apparently, into at least six months. I wasn’t about to go since it’s my senior year (woohoo!!) now and there is no way on Earth I’d miss that! Since G is mostly house-bound it just made sense for him to stay here too, and I would babysit, err, I mean, help him with stuff. Going to the LPA conference was scheduled way back already, and I’ve always gone, so it was no big deal to assume I would accompany him there. Like G had mentioned before, my parents are real liberal-minded, but it is still super amazing to be treated like an absolute adult in that way. Obviously, I look and am mature enough to be on my own, and for legal reasons G, being as old as he is, can be considered my guardian, even if in reality it is the exact opposite!

Now, like I’ve said, I’ve gone every year of my life, and I must admit it was a little awkward for me as a five or six year old to stand with my parents, themselves not short by any stretch of the imagination, while all these little people – adults! – stood and talked to them or others around us. I was tall (duh) for a five year old, standing in at over 4 foot, and these old (!! although, in retrospect, they were probably only in their mid- 30s or 40s for all I know) adults, were chattering away beneath my line of vision, probably at about 3 foot or 3’6 or so. I totally felt like a fish out of water. It’s true Georgie has always been as tiny as he is (actually even tinier when I was 5 or 6 and he was 13-14), and I was used to that of course, but as a sister you always assume your brother is the exception (well, ok, he kinda is) and that no one else is near anything like him. But when you see lots of really short teens, or kids older than you, even adults, even grandpa age, then it hits you very powerfully.

Maybe if I was older when I first met other LPs I would not have been as powerfully effected, but as a kid, even though G was never ever even close to as tall as my waist, still, looking down at people other than my very tiny brother, was an amazing, educationally enlightening, experience for me. In short (haha), it was totally thrilling for me. Of course, as I got older, and more used to both the experience of socializing with much shorter people as well as the conference schedule in general, it became almost second nature to me and I learned to like, even look forward to, the annual event for different reasons. Not least of which was I met some really great people.

Of course, outside of the annual week with the LPs, the closest I would (and still) come to seeing really short peers or older people on a regular basis was my neighbors Lauren and even her brother James (sorry James! But you’re really short for a guy, in case you didn’t know!).  There was this one boy in 9th and 10th grades who was an LP, probably standing at about 3’10, and we talked about our differences a lot and enjoyed each other’s friendship, but his family moved away two years ago so I haven’t seen him since.  Maybe it’s just me – or my town -- but I just don’t (or didn’t) interact with, or even see too often, little people.  No one I knew (does it ever really happen?) was ever shrunk down from regular height to tiny size due to radiation or trauma, or experienced that rare but so cool (!!) shrinking disease I’ve read so much about. Truth is, I have no idea how I’d react to friends or people I know coming down with that disease. It must be so incredibly hard to deal with someone you’ve always known as, say 6 foot, dwindling down over time to, 4 foot something and eventually much less (how short do such people get? I can’t believe it’s ever less than 18 inches, that would be off the wall crazy).

Trust me, as a 6’7 teen, I know how frustrating it is to experience size change (err, as in my own growth) over a short period of time, like the year between LPA conferences, seeing adults you know as seeming to gradually shrink each year you see them. Don’t even ask me what it was like to go away to sleep away camp for two months over the summer (following the conference of course) and grow several inches over those months and come home to your teeny tiny older brother, seemingly tinier than ever. I went away only two or three summers at the most, but it usually took Georgie himself a while to swallow the new fact that I was that much taller than him. As I got older, he would be less emotional about it, having gotten used to the whole summer growth experience, but it still amazes me. My growth has definitely slowed as I’ve gotten older but I am pretty sure it has not stopped completely. So bring on those extra inches, I want to see those LPs, including G, shrink! Haha, no, but G has always been tiny, so there was no real “surprise” at seeing him, as an adult, so tiny. It’s not like he was ever my height and just shrank. That thought itself even makes me laugh inside – I cannot imagine an adult human being any tinier than G. Well, he does hold the world record, so my celebrity brother is more than enough LP for my town! 

So getting back to the conference: we got there by plane as you might have imagined. We usually buy G an infant ticket, since it is just much easier for us to transport G in a baby carriage, he doesn’t take up anywhere near enough of a full plane seat, and no ever thinks twice about the really small baby with me. This time, however, airport security (assuming G was my son!) had me pull his shirt up and pants down to show we weren’t transporting anything illegal that way. Luckily G is almost entirely hairless on his body so no one suspected his not being a month old.  I also had to hold him as I walked through the x-ray machine. Kinda ironic, I thought to myself, that on the way to a little peoples’ conference Georgie had to be submitted to such humiliation based entirely on his size. Well, there were lots of other similar ironies to be considered at the conference hotel, though thankfully we didn’t know about them just yet.

The little guy has already told you about our experience when we first checked in, but bear with me as I repeat it from my own, much different and higher altitude, perspective. The taxi from the airport had dropped us off directly in front of the hotel entrance so, allowing the bellboys to get our stuff from the trunk, I carried G inside. As soon as we walked in, we recognized many familiar faces. Now, obviously, at 6’7, I’m used to having people shoulder or even boob height but it still is a bit overwhelming to be surrounded by below-waist people. So as we walked in, I lowered G to the floor, let him talk to his friends from a non-infant-like position (although now he was to them as they were to me, barely coming up to their waists) and we both slowly made our way to the check-in counter. 

On the way, I saw my friend Eric, who is about 21 or 22, dark hair, now also sporting a dark beard, still only reaching 30 inches in height, so just barely over my knees, although probably weighing a healthy 35-40 lbs. His height places him squarely in the “smallest people in the world” category, together with probably 50 people or less. Of course, Georgie leads that group, and no one else comes close, but every member of the group, is breathtakingly, heart-tuggingly, tiny. Eric hugged me around the knees in greeting, and not wanting to make it too awkward, I bent down to my knees, bent forward towards him and put my arms around him, kissing him hello. “Haven’t seen you in a whole year, big guy, how’ve you been?” He told me how his past year was, including the progress he’s made in his business. We walked slowly as he talked, with him looking way up and me way down so we could see each other’s eyes. He has a different condition than Georgie, so obviously he is much bigger and his voice isn’t anywhere as near as tiny. So although there is still a huge height gap between our eyes, I hear him perfectly. That is not always the case with Georgie.

Now, I know, normally you’d think a guy in his twenties should have no business speaking to, or being too friendly with, a teenaged girl, but I think the whole huge height difference between us thing kinda makes that moral point mute. Anyhow, I waved down to Eric saying goodbye as G and I approached the desk. I like Eric. Not sure why. Short guys (ok, in Eric’s case, really really short guys) seem to try harder to get the girl, and I can appreciate that in them. I am not saying I would ever get intimate with guys knee high, I’m not saying I wouldn’t either, but I like them and love spending time with guys of such stature. 

Anyhow, since G is the main member of LPA in the family (my parents and I are “family-members”), he was the one who had to sign us in. Well of course the counter top is high, but this being an LPA conference, they had set up mini ladders and step stools all over. But G, even though he tried, climbed, almost crawled, up to the highest level of the ladder in front of the desk, still couldn’t reach his head over the top. Looking down at him there, I am sorry to say but I almost burst out laughing since my eyes were directed down, and the girls at the counter were looking expectantly at me, thinking I had come to sign in myself, not having seen G at all, and there was G all way down there, although still much below the vision of the girls on the other side of the desk. So, despite my laughter, I also felt suddenly so very sad for G, how it must have been the epitome of irony that at a little people’s convention he couldn’t partake fully of the conveniences because of his height. On the other hand, however, you can totally understand how the convention organizers cannot expect adults (plural) of Geogie’s height and provide special conveniences just for them, as most of LPs known to modern science are of a significantly taller stature. So -- what could I do? -- I reached down and lifted the little man onto the marble desk-top, and I, still way taller than him, smiled at the counter girls and introduced my older brother to them. “Oh. My. God!! He’s soooo cute!! What is your name, little man?” Ugh. So humiliating and degrading. My heart ached for the pain, embarrassment, he must have just endured, must no doubt endure every day, as a result of such jerks. But George, the tiny adult, started talking their ears off. I was glad he is so able to handle such an experience, I’m not sure if I was in his tiny shoes whether I would be so good-natured about such humiliation. 

Of course, as you’ve heard, the girls started asking us if they could take his pic, first as selfies, their holding him near their faces, then with me standing over him, bending my head down near him so that we would both appear together in the pic. When they tried taking them without my bending down, G appears slightly below my boobs, my giant (to him) globes seeming to nearly completely overshadow him. I had to put my foot down, otherwise, I thought, they’d start Tweeting it or whatnot all over, and any sense of decency would be forever out of our reach. So I told them firmly, but politely, they could only take two with the both of us in proper position. I may only be 17 but I like to think my height lends me a sense of authority. Sure enough, the two twenty-something girls were more than happy to oblige my request.  

Once we were signed in we had to get our stuff to our room. Obviously we would need bellhops to help. The two cute guys working near the desk at the time were quick to offer their services. I realized pretty quickly of course that they were totally flirting with me (I tend to bring that out in guys of all heights!) and I don’t mind. I hugged them both and even playfully pinched their cheeks implying they may get me to kiss them (or more!) as they dreamily carried our baggage up to our room. As they put the stuff down, I did in fact kiss them, as I knew that would only insure their continued good service. I may be tall, but I know how to flirt too, using my height and guys’ fascination with it, to my advantage!

So as the guys left and Georgie and I began to unpack, my suitcase on the bed, his on the floor, and we began to move the beds around, one mattress to the floor, I hadn’t noticed G get all undressed and head to the bathroom. He came out, though, barefoot, and a small hand towel wrapped around him, a minute later. I was still bent over my suitcase on the bed, my back to him, so hadn’t even heard him as he cleared his throat and said, “Umm, Lexie, we kinda need to talk.”

I turned around, looked way down in his direction, and said “Shoot. What’s up?” 

“Well,” he started, stammered really, “I kinda need your help in the bathroom. I can’t reach the toilet, sink or shower at all.”

“O my God, what a bummer, right? Here, even in this great hotel with conveniences for little people they still haven’t gotten everything right. OK, what kinda help exactly?”

Basically he asked me to get him an infant (extra-small) toilet seat and a higher mini-stool so he could reach. Otherwise he’d need to relieve himself in the bathtub. I told him that should be no problem, I’d have room service bring up appropriate accessories.

But then he asked me if I could hold him in the shower because the stool didn’t help him reach the faucets, let alone the shower head, and it would be too difficult to maneuver there on his own, even if I had left them on for him.

At this point, I got a little bothered. “Wait, “ I said, as I stood up to my full height, looking down at little G, standing there barefoot, nearly shaking in his hand towel, looking way up at what must still be to him my awesome, intimidating, stature. I had my arms crossed, with a scowl on my face like an annoyed 6 year old, as I stared down hard at him. “You want me to hold you in the shower as I stand naked too, just so you could shower?”

I realized I was intimidating him, not just because of the awesome differences in our heights, and the added humiliation of his being nearly naked and barefoot, but for begging me for a rather unusual filial request. But I couldn’t help it.  He was asking for something that was rather unusual, even if it was simple and a rather easy thing for me to do. I mean I’ve seen him in all his little glory, and he’s seen my boobs before, but I had never before been stark naked with him at the same time. Taking a shower together was kinda pushing the limits of what a brother and sister should do. Even if one of them was insect size.

In the end, though, I broke. I love him too much and he was asking from a very innocent place, so I couldn’t let him down. What else was he supposed to do? Go a few days without showering just because he couldn’t reach the faucets? Seemed too harsh. 

As it was, I needed to shower too, so I quickly undressed and walked in to the bathroom, Georgie shuffling in behind me. As I walked into the tub, and reached down to pick G over the edge which he couldn’t step over -- I realized too late that my boobs pretty much jiggled right in his face, but what could I do? -- and let him down near my feet, I looked down at his tiny, umm, self, and thought, wow, this is sooo wrong. The hair on my head is auburn (had I mentioned that yet?) but my bush is black and it was staring down at him and his nearly entirely hairless body as smooth as a newborn’s, as he stared, unabashedly, way up in its direction. As I said, he’s seen my boobs before, perhaps not so recently since they’ve grown a bit in the last few weeks, but probably never my bush, and definitely not both at once. I realized then that one of my boobs was larger than his entire head. While this had probably been true for a while already, I guess I had never put the two, umm, together. He swallowed hard, I could tell, but tried not to let my womanhood, and the awkwardness of the situation, distract him from our shower plans. 

And, then, almost magically, as I examined him far below me, and he upwards at me, we both burst out laughing! “You know,” I teased him, “even for a little guy, dude, you are really really small!” “Well, thank you very much for reminding me, LexieTooLong. You know for a tall girl, you are really really huge!” As we laughed some more, he hugged my calf muscle (in gratitude?), clearly rubbing up against it a bit more than necessary. I wasn’t gonna call him on it, but I got why he suddenly felt the urge to do so. It was an emotional moment for the both of us and his tiny self hardly has moments of sexual relief.

“You have to lift me up, because there is no way I want to wash off of your dirty water.”

Haha, he is so cute, but he’s right: if I had left him down at my feet the only water reaching him would’ve been what had run down and over me. I picked him, held him as he sat, legs outstretched on my palm, under the stream and washed up. Then I asked him to hold onto the shower pipe above my head as I had to shampoo myself. He clung to the pipe, his tiny feet pretty much in my eyes, as I shampooed, while begging me forgiveness for having to go through this with him. I told him he’d owe me one, haha, but that it was fine. What else was a giant sister good for? Afterwards I gently placed him down near my feet so I could finish up washing out the shampoo. Looking down at one point, I suddenly started feeling kinda aroused – here was an adult man in front of me in all his glory! – and my calf muscle near his body tensed, and I felt and fingered myself up far above him. Had he noticed? I wasn’t sure, but I was relieved when I felt ready to leave the tub. I’d like to think he was too.

After we dried off, he again begged me forgiveness for having almost forced me to do that, but I waved him off, telling him it was fine, and, besides, we would probably have to do that a few more times before the convention ended. I’ve been naked, or partly naked, before with him, but it has never been so sexually arousing as that first day in the shower. He’s my brother, I know, but as a tiny almost doll-size man, it’s often almost too easy to think of him, I’m embarrassed to say, but as a sex toy. He is obviously too big (ha! Funny hearing that about G!) to fit anywhere *in* my body, but his being undressed near me at the same time that I was undressed as well, awakened in me desires I had never realized before. I hope he can forgive me for these thoughts.

Once we were cleaned and dried up, we made our way down to the convention center proper. G walked on his own to the sessions he had signed up for, and me, I decided to take it easy and head over to the café. I was suddenly surrounded by lots and lots of little people. It seems a giantess like me (haha) attracts crowds of little people. Not sure why they hadn’t gone themselves to the sessions, I was only expecting the other non-LP family members to be there, maybe some friends as well, or even non-convention guests, but somewhere deep inside me I was glad it was more than just the non-LPs. Eric was there too, cute guy, and as I sat down in one of the comfy couches in the lounge away from the crowd he walked up to me, put his arms around my knees and stretched out his tiny arm as in an invitation to pull me up (as if he could physically do that! Ha!). I declined, looking down at the little man, telling him I was tired, and just wanted to sit. Besides, it was easier to talk to him from this height – I was still much taller than him as I sat, but it was obviously much less than it would have been had I stood. I think it would have required too much maneuvering for him to climb up onto the couch, and he hadn’t thought it worth the trouble. I didn’t want to embarrass him by offering to help him up so he just stood there while I talked to him (was that wrong of me??). 

After a while of chatting, I stood up, and Eric looked really excited as he stared way up and said, “hey, can I get you a drink?” I’m not sure how long Eric’s legs are but they seem really very short, probably because, being so much heavier than Georgie’s although probably not much longer, they seemed tiny in comparison to a normal person’s - so as I walk he literally has to shuffle - maybe waddle is a better verb, although its implication isn’t too flattering - to keep up with me. I walked him all the way to the nearby bar and smiling, looked down at him as I tried to mentally estimate the calisthenics it would require of him to climb up the bar stool.

“Eric, darling, how are you ever going to get up here?”

Without missing a beat, he said, in as suave a way as possible for an adult who is just 2’6, “you may just have to lift me up there, Stretch!”

I laughed and reached down. Now, lifting Georgie is no problem as the little guy weights less than 9 pounds, but Eric was much heftier, probably something like a bit less than around 40 pounds. I did it, but it did require a bit more effort than I was used to. I seated him on the stool and, still standing, looked down at him and asked, “You know I’m only 17 so I can’t really drink here, right?” He knew, and told me he would get me a soda, whatever I wanted. We sat, talked and drank together for a bit and then I asked to be excused so I could use the bathroom. 

When I returned my little friend was nowhere to be seen. At least, that is, from my height. I scanned the floor all over and finally noticed him trying to lift himself up into one of the chairs in the hall. I called to him and he shuffled (waddled? wobbled? One of those) over to me, probably only too glad not to have to humiliate himself more. I told, rather than asked, him to keep me company as I wanted to walk outside in the open air (unfortunately there’s no beach in Boston!). He readily agreed. So my 2’6 little friend and I went walking outside. At his size, he probably doesn’t get to walk alone outside too often with anyone other than his “handler” so I could tell how welcome the opportunity was to walk with me.  

A minute into our walk, however, the little man surprised me by looking up and just declaring, “I want to see your boobs!” To say I was flabbergasted would not be an exaggeration. Eric was my friend, I thought, and friends don’t just say that to one another. I think.  Am I wrong about that? Well, not to let him see me surprised, I just looked down at him, and said “you know, Eric babe, I am fine with showing guys my breasts, but the guy has to at least be able to touch my ass. I am afraid, little man, you don’t qualify!” With a resigned look, but a good humored smile, he responded “oo man! Sooo not fair!” I bent down and gently touched his shoulder, kissing him lightly on the cheek. “Them’s the breaks, kid.”  I did like his spunk, even if I wasn’t exactly in the mood just then to expose my girls to a knee-high man. 

Then, at one point I saw a girl, probably close to my age, walking her dog, so I wandered over in her direction. She was a redhead, on the tall side, probably 6’ or 6’1, so I felt like I may finally have someone I could talk to without feeling like a giant. Kimberly, as I was soon to learn, was a native Bostonian and was intrigued to hear there even was such a thing as a little peoples’ conference, let alone one so close by in the nearby hotel. She was walking her dog, a large Great Dane, clearly over a foot taller than Eric. As I walked up and introduced myself and Eric, I could tell she was a bit shaken at seeing two people of probably the greatest variations of height she had ever seen. As she bent down, and then squatted, to shake Eric’s hand with one of her fingers, he told her “wow, you’ve got a really big dog!” To which she smilingly responded, as she stood tall again, “I have a feeling most dogs would look big to you, Eric!” Thankfully, Eric took this very well.

We walked together, perhaps even in synch, although much slower than we would have normally thereby letting little Eric walk with us, between us really, nearly knee height to us and behind the tall dog and its leash. We talked and laughed; I quickly felt that I had found a real friend. She was surprised to learn that I had come to the conference for the sake of a family member. “You mean not everyone in your family is so amazingly tall?” I told her no, that my older brother was a little person, and then she confidently whispered to me, “ya, but I bet he’s nowhere as small as Eric, right?” Well, at this point, Eric looked up defiantly towards us and started laughing. “Wow, tall girl, you’ve got a lot to learn!” I told her how G was eight years older than me but more than a foot shorter than even Eric, and that he was the recognized world’s shortest living adult, and that in a year or so when I turn 18 and become eligible, we both would be entered into the Guinness World Records for siblings with the greatest variation in heights.

Kimberly was excited to hear this, and mentioned how eager she was to meet Georgie. “And what about me??,” pouted Eric in good nature. Kimberly, from far above, smiled down and mouthed “you are so cute, baby.” “Eric, darling,“ I said, “how often do you get to walk with not one but two really tall beautiful women such as us? So stop pouting little man! And, Kim, definitely stop by the hotel in the next day or two and I will be happy to introduce you to lots of great people, including my teeny tiny brother.” Kim squealed with delight at this, and then, because Eric had grown tired of walking (tiny legs only have so much energy), we decided to turn back to the hotel. We hugged our goodbyes (Kim’s dog even licked Eric on top of his head) and I walked side by side with a cute bearded man who couldn’t reach my ass if he tried.

Later that afternoon, as more LPA sessions took place, I decided to go for a swim in the hotel pool. When I had turned 14 and my, umm, body started developing in great speed, my mom made me promise to wear bikinis only at the family pool. Anytime I wanted to swim outside, however, I needed to wear a one-piece. I agreed, even as I knew that even one-pieces would attract attention, given my height. Sure enough, as I walked outside to the hotel pool in my blue tanksuit, I could feel the eyes of all the old men (non-convention guests) lounging by the sides of the pool, checking me out. Georgie later told me that in his session all the attendees, young, old, male, female, all at one point gasped in unison as their eyes riveted to the windows showcasing my diving into the pool. What can I say? I kinda stop traffic, or create a tidal wave of attention as I walk by, or dive into a pool… But I was having a great time, I can’t slow down because of what others think of me! 

Anyhow, as I walked barefoot back into the hotel, with my towel draped around my shoulders, Eric met me at the elevator bank. “Going up, I presume, pretty lady?” “Why, yes, little man,” I teased him, “I am indeed going up. I would guess you do that too lots of times?” My sexual humor may have gone over his head. All he was doing was staring up at me, my crotch area hovering above his line of vision. I would have liked to stretch my arm and hold his head at arm’s length to indicate his not going up in the elevator with me, but, alas, his head was too much below easy reach of my outstretched arm! I didn’t feel comfortable doing this to him, as I realize how impolite it must seem, but I didn’t want to have to get too nasty later – so I raised my bare foot to his face, and told him, “sorry, Eric cutie, there’s only room for one of us in this car.” And with that, I entered the elevator alone, going back to my room. I don’t know how much longer he had to wait for someone going up the elevator, as I am sure he cannot reach the buttons himself. I hope he doesn’t hold that against me, I do think so highly of the little man, despite his stereotypical male proclivities.

Later that evening I finally ran into (almost literally) my friend Tess. Tiny Tess, as everyone calls her although I find the name so rude, is about a year and a bit older than me but we’ve been friends ever since we met at the annual conference when I was 13. She is now, at 18 years of age, a contender for shortest living female adult, standing in at the adorable height of 26.5 inches, weighing in at 20 pounds even. When we met I was 13 and a respectable 6’1 while she at age 14 had just reached the 24 inches or 2 foot even mark. We were each entranced by the other’s size. Like I’ve mentioned before, I had nothing better to do at these conferences than meet new people and try to avoid being in the presence of my parents as much as possible. So Tess and I hit it off. We followed each other around, whispered in each other’s ears as often as physically possible (my physical flexibility tested each time), and just generally had a grand time. Of course, she had met Georgie, but at 21, G didn’t feel comfortable hanging around or socializing at all with 14 year olds. Tess, for her part, thought the little man, all 17 plus inches, small even to her, was the cutest thing she had ever laid eyes upon. She knew the age gap was an issue and didn’t press the matter. But she also didn’t refuse to eat with us, or spend time with both of us, as often as her own parents would allow.  You would’ve thought she and Eric would be a better match, since they were closer in age and height, but somehow I guess their personalities simply didn’t match up. 

Now, with Tess finally having graduated high school and becoming an official adult, Georgie couldn’t avoid the fact that Tess, though ten inches taller and more than twice his weight, was the prettiest girl he knew who was so deeply, adorably, heartbreakingly interested in him.

So that evening when I rounded a corner into a side room, and Tess, not knowing, rounded it in the opposite direction directly in line with my knees, she basically bounced backwards and landed on her head. I gasped and lowered immediately to my knees to pick her up, like one might an injured bird, and kissed her cheek until her eyes fluttered open, saw me and smiled, while I said, “oh, Tess, baby, I am so sorry! Are you hurt?  I’ve looked forward to seeing you all year, but not in this way! Oh my God, I am soo sorry! Please, please forgive me!” She assured me nothing was hurt so I lowered her to the floor, and still on my own knees, looked down at her, and hugged her. “So good to see you, girl! I really have to watch my knees more when I’m around little people!” She laughed and asked me where Georgie was so she could talk to him, so I walked with her to the main lounge where I knew I’d find him.

As soon as I saw him, I rushed over, and picked him up, telling him I wanted him to see someone. I knew my body covered his view of Tess from behind. I walked him over to Tess, and then sat down at a nearby chair, looking down as a beautiful love story, I hoped, unfolded before my eyes. 

Ok, ok, so maybe I am over-dramatizing the encounter, I admit, I do that sometimes. But still, you have to admit, the girl who’s been interested in the guy for like five years finally getting a chance to speak to him, face to face (or face to chest, as the case may be), is as dramatic as they come. Don’t you agree? It was cute to see Georgie looking up, but not nearly as high as he normally needs to, into the eyes of Tess, who had looked forward to this encounter for all these years. I wasn’t close enough to overhear exactly what they said, but I do know that after a few minutes, they walked off together towards the back of the room. 

From afar, I almost cried out in emotion when I saw Tess lift Georgie up just a few inches so he could see over the probably 20 inch high wall under the large picture window on the wall. If guys normally do that for girls, it was still moving to see, something I could empathize with, as I’ve done just that for guys as well, given my own height. I adore Tess with all my heart, and I prayed Georgie would grow to feel the same way. Tiny as he is, there must be someone just for him, as I believe there must be someone for everyone. Way of the world, I think. Again, do I dramatize too much? Perhaps, but that’s how I feel. Can’t tell a girl how to feel!

The next morning proved to be an, umm, interesting experience as well. As I’ve mentioned, I often sleep at night without a top on so my, umm, girls can sleep unencumbered. But I also sleep very deeply and it takes me forever to wake up, even if there is an alarm blaring in my face. Well, apparently that morning G had been trying to get me to wake up for a while already, standing way down on his mattress on the floor. But I simply hadn’t heard him. So he climbed up to my bed, and stood over me yelling (in his tiny voice) for me to wake up. At one point, apparently, I had turned over so that my face and boobs faced him, and the slight movement on the mattress caused my little brother to lose his footing and he ended up face down in my right boob! Well, I definitely woke up then, seeing the little guy’s face sunk in my fleshy globe, directly atop my stiffening nipple, his hands sunk in my other boob and my chest on the other side.

He slowly and steadily pulled himself up and out of that, umm, situation, looking really red in the face, and I, leaning on my left elbow, looked over at him and told him, yes, G, that wasn’t uncomfortable at all. My sarcasm screams loud when I’m a bit upset, wouldn’t you say? Hadn’t you seen enough yesterday in our shower? And yes, I was up. Was he fit enough to get off my bed and let me get up on my own? He looked behind him, down at the floor, looking like he was getting ready to jump, so I lifted him up and placed him down there, whispering to him as I let him go, let’s not talk about this again, ok?

Anyhow, yeah, so the next few days passed almost exactly as the first. Naked showers together with my brother, walks outside with Eric, Kim and her dog, time spent with Tess and the pool, sometimes both together (haha), time and coffee or meals spent with many other old and some new friends at the hotel.  Finally, the last night of the conference, the famous banquet.  The food, as Georgie already told you, is amazing! There is a dance there too, which is great for the LPs, probably not so great for non-LPs who don’t have a date. Like moi, for example. I danced with this one non-LP, kinda tall but he was a biker dude, which is really not my thing. I also danced with Jeremy, who G already described. It’s kinda funny, now looking back, how G is less than 1’6, Eric is 2’6 and Jeremy is about 3’6. It’s almost like all the really short men in my life are a foot apart! (Ok, James, at barely 5’2, kinda breaks that mold…but not by much!) But Jeremy is kinda cool, with that real suave Travolta look. I danced with him, playfully hugging him in close to my waist, trying not to let him think I thought of him too much. 

My favorite moment of the dance, however, was when the music played something soft and light, the lights went dim, and I scanned the room from “above” all the heads of the LPs below my waist, spotting G and Tess together. Such a tiny couple, but so right together in my eyes, my heart kinda went pitter-patter. I just wanted to scoop them up together in my arm, and see them cuddle. Instead, I just rushed over to them, standing way above them, and said, “my God, you guys, this is so cute! Can I do a selfie with you guys?” They kinda nodded yes, and then wondered aloud how I’d ever manage to bend down low enough. I just lay down on the floor near them, held myself up with one elbow so my head appeared near-level with Tess’s, G standing in front of Tess, and shot the three of us together. It was a great shot, and I shall treasure it for a long time to come.

Leaving the conference is always the hardest part. Most of the LPs won’t see each other for a whole year and that’s a long time to live apart from people just like you. I know I always appreciate when I get to hang with other tall people, and I feel sad when we part. That doesn’t happen to me a lot but I am glad when it does. I cannot wait til I am old enough to attend the Tall People’s club annual convention! Maybe I will bring G along just so he can keep me company and kind of feel what I’ve felt all these years attending the LPA one.  Anyhow, we kissed and hugged goodbye to all our friends, LP and non- alike, and promised we’d stay in touch throughout the year. And so ended another year at LPA. 

One of the first things I did when we returned from LPA is something that has become sort of a once-a-year ritual for me already, namely: measure myself. Ever since I was nine years old and I’ve realized how much taller I was than all my friends, I refused to be measured more than once a year. Even when I’d go to the doctor’s or school nurse’s office or something, I’d refuse when they wanted to measure me. It was traumatic enough, I thought, when I saw all my friends (and, increasingly, many teachers too) way below my eye level, I didn’t need to cement that trauma by knowing precisely my height and obvious growth as well every so often a year. I know, I know, it’s a babyish kinda thing to insist on, but it meant a lot to me. Maybe soon I will not be so strict regarding this stance, but for now, this is how I do things.

Since my birthday is in the beginning of July, after the school year, if I was going to measure myself periodically at all, it made sense to measure me at or near my birthday. And since the LPA convention is usually around end of June, beginning of July, and like I’ve said, we always went to the convention, the ritual we have followed now for the past eight years or so has been to measure me almost immediately after the conference. Better after the convention than before it, I figured, so that my “official” height wouldn’t be known and thereby possibly save some embarrassment for me and some LPs in realizing the relative differences between us. 

Obviously, my dad, as the (next-) tallest in the family, has been measuring me almost exclusively most recently, even if he has to use a small stool to reach the measuring tape at the top of my head. This year, because my parents are away these months, I had to rely, believe it or not, on my older brother. I guess I just didn’t even think of asking my friends or other people for whom it would have been much easier; Georgie is right there anyway, so why not? The way I thought would be easiest for him was to have him stand on a ladder as he measured me, as I stood back against the wall. The ladder we have in the garage is 6 feet high, but since the steps are way too high for Georgie to climb, I had to lift him to the top. Standing there barefoot in my jean cut-offs, I was near eye-level with G’s belly button, which was kind of a new perspective for me. As I’m sure it was for him as well.

It took some time for us to get the tape measure to stand even with my heels against the wall as Georgie reached above my head to secure its place directly over it. Once that was accomplished, however, Georgie announced my new height: 6’8! I had grown an inch in the past year! I was a bit disappointed, I must admit, as this was a new thing for me, as I usually grow about three inches per year. Obviously, I was slowing down…which is a bummer. Hey, what can you do? Everyone’s growth slows down and eventually has to stop at some point, I guess. 

But I needed to know now how much weight I had put on also. You can’t just grow an inch and not expect to gain weight! As I threw off my shirt and shorts, so that I was clad only in my red bra and undies, and stepped on the scale, I asked Georgie to guess the number. He walked over to me and looking up, smiled and said “200?” I threw him my dirtiest look, saying “that’s so mean! I better not be that much, you little twit!” 

That’s when I noticed it first. It’s true I was standing on a scale (probably an inch or so high) and it’s also true that, as I had just learned, I had gained an inch in height recently (that is, in the past year), but I noticed then that Georgie’s head didn’t reach even close to the birthmark on my calf.  Now that birthmark had kinda been a personal, on-my-body height mark for Georgie. By which I mean, for the past few years, his head always reached to that mark. He hadn’t grown in the past few years, and I obviously had, but for some reason – I guess my lower leg hadn’t grown while the rest of me continued to grow – the mark remained true to his height. Now however I was noticing it was relatively way above his head mark. What on earth could possibly have happened to cause that difference? I knew then that I had to measure him too, just to quiet my curiosity.

We have measured him a lot, maybe too much in his mind, and lots of times new mothers even ask to measure Georgie against their new-borns so we kinda “lend” him out to be measured and pose for those pics (no, he doesn’t mind! At least we don’t think so. But he can tell you more about that if he wants), but the truth is in recent months we haven’t had an opportunity to measure him too much. So as I mentally registered my weight (197! I had gained 12 pounds for the one inch of growth!) I considered what I had to do. 

“Come, Georgie,” I said, “let me measure you now.”

“O come on, Lex, you don’t really think I grew, do you? I haven’t grown in close to four years so it’s really not likely my size has changed.” 

“Haha, no, I don’t think that but it’s really weird that your head is not at my birthmark anymore. Did my leg just do a weird dis-proportionate growth kinda thing? I just gotta see. Do you really mind, sweetie?”

So I measured him. Now, we don’t use the against-the-wall-marking thing for Georgie as we do for me, since his size kinda requires that we do it more accurately, so we usually measure him as he lies on a surface. I used the same tape measure we used for me on him, since it lists both inches and centimeters also. Centimeters being smaller than inches, it’s more of an exact measure. Like I mentioned in the beginning, Georgie has been 17.7 inches, or 45 cm., tall/long for at least the last three years so I wasn’t really expecting to see any difference. 

But as I made sure his shoulders were flat against the table-top, and his feet and calves stretched taught, I noticed the tape measure only going to the 17 inches, or 43 cm., line, and not three-quarters of an inch above that. I don’t know what I was expecting, but that caught me by surprise.  I was like, “what? How’d that happen?” Just to be sure, though, I tried a few more times…each time he came out to 17 inches exactly. Maybe I should have tried again in the morning or the evening, because heights change per time of day (I think I read that somewhere. Am I wrong?), but I don’t think it would have made such a difference on him. 

Georgie was getting fidgety, wanting to know what was taking so long, why I had to measure him so many times. I didn’t know how to break it to him…I mean, he’s so tiny, for God’s sake, how was I to tell him he was even tinier than before? Somehow I was feeling embarrassed and guilty for the new reality. As I could feel my face getting all hot and red, stumbling over my words, I finally got out that I think he may have shrunk. 

“What??” Georgie nearly shouted. “That can’t be right. People don’t just shrink. Maybe you measured me wrong?”

“No,” I said, “remember I just did that a few times. You are most definitely 17 inches or 43 cm. tall now. Sorry, G.  I know how much it must suck.”

“So maybe you’ve been measuring me wrong all these years? Like, maybe I’ve always been only 43 instead of 45 cm?” 

“No, I don’t think that’s it either. We were pretty sure about the 45 cm thing. Remember doctors have measured you that tall also. Even the Guinness World Records people have measured you at 45 cm.  But you’re definitely just 43 cm now. I don’t know how to explain it, G…except…maybe you have that shrinking disease I’ve heard and read about so much.” 

“No, no, no -- there is no such thing as a shrinking disease! Where’d you hear about that? I mean, come on, if there was such a thing, how come you don’t see tiny people all over? And even if there was, why, of all people, would I get it? Remember the whole primordial dwarfism thing? Shrinking on top of that seems to be more cosmic evil than seems likely.”  

“Well, what can I say? Life’s not fair. I hardly need to tell you, of all people, that! I still think maybe you have it…and the reason we don’t know or see other tiny people is just because they don’t want everyone seeing them. But whatever. It’s only a difference of three quarters of an inch. Maybe it’s not really a disease for such a minor loss. Do you think I should take you to the doctor’s?”

“No, I feel fine, and you’re right, if it’s only three quarters of an inch maybe it’s not really anything serious. I mean, when did this even happen? It’s probably just some weird fluke. I mean, bones aren’t supposed to shrink in normal people, right? Except of course for normal shrinking for people with Osteoporosis…but you only get that when you’re old and frail. Other than the obvious, of course, I’m as healthy as a horse! Haha. No, but really, how could this happen to me??  Whatever… I probably can hold out til Mom and Dad get back.  If it gets worse by then, then ok, maybe I would have to see someone. Right now let’s just forget this, ok?”

“Ha! You think I can just forget that my teeny tiny brother just got teenier? So what if it’s only three quarters of an inch, that’s still HUGE for someone your size! If I lost that much, it would mean nothing since relatively speaking three quarters of an inch is nothing on me. But on you, it’s huge! Anyhow, obviously I’m not gonna run and tell everyone but don’t think for a moment I’m gonna just forget this! In fact, come to think of it, we should probably weigh you too. Just like I gained a few pounds when I grew that inch, I would expect you to have lost some weight for that three quarters inch loss.” 

Grabbing the little guy before he could protest, I walked with him back to the weight scale. Now, we used to have one of those baby scales for Georgie, since he really is too small for the regular one…and too big for the food scale (haha I did try that once on him when I was 10). But the baby scale broke a while ago and we just haven’t fixed it since then.  So to weigh him, I quickly undressed him to his undies, as I was clad myself, and I once again got on the scale. His face was shoved near my boobs, and as I looked down on him I reminded him that he had been up close and personal with the girls not too long ago, so he better not get too fresh. G just smiled in response. The scale showed 205 exactly, which meant that Georgie was 8 pounds even. Since he had been 8.5 before, we knew that together with that three quarters of an inch loss he had lost half a pound in weight as well. This was definitely a serious issue. 

Would I grow more than 6’8, 197 lbs? Would G shrink smaller than 17 inches, 8 lbs? As much as it killed me to think of it, and I prayed it would never get worse, only time would tell for sure.

Anyhow, an hour later, after I had already put back the measuring tape and scale, gotten dressed again and tried to move emotionally beyond the new reality we had just been forced to acknowledge, the doorbell rang. Now, as you can imagine, Georgie has never answered the front door in his life: he just can’t even come close to reaching the handle and even if he could, it could be dangerous for him to open the door to anyone. So he often follows after me.

I must admit, it is a wee bit annoying to have a 25 year old guy, even if he is your brother and even if he is shorter than your knees, follow behind you like a toddler holding on to the skirts of his mother (not that G could even reach my “skirts,” unless of course I wore a really long dress, which I hardly ever do). But that is our reality and I’ve reluctantly, to be sure, accepted it. 

So, with Georgie at my still barefoot heels, I opened the door to find our neighbor Kayla, who I hadn’t seen in a while, standing there, asking if they could borrow some sugar. As I went back to the kitchen to get a bag of sugar, I left Kayla and Georgie at the door. Like we’ve mentioned before, Kayla and her entire family are really close with all of us, and despite a ten year age difference, she and Georgie get on really well.

Kayla was obviously excited to see Georgie and bent down eagerly to show him her new Fitbit watch. I came back to find Kayla on her knees, butt to heels, bending low to meet Georgie’s eyes, with her arm outstretched and held by Georgie’s two tiny hands, as he was animatedly asking her all about the functions of the watch. When they finished, Kayla swept Georgie closer to her, and left him with a peck on his forehead, and stood up.

As I handed her the sugar, I noticed that Kayla, in her flip-flops, seemed taller than I had remembered. (Wow, what is happening to me? Recently, everyone, it seemed like, was a different size than I had remembered. Why was I, of all people, so obsessed with height differences all of a sudden? I hoped it wasn’t really an obsession, just a passing curiosity, but who knows how these things work?) 

“Kayla,” I said, “weren’t you like 4’11 a while ago? Somehow, you seem taller now. Is that possible?”

“Oh My God, thanks for noticing, Lexie! Yes, a few weeks ago I was measured at like a bit over 5 foot. Who knows if I haven’t grown since then? Haha I still am a growing girl, thank the Lord. All I know is I’m pretty sure I don’t have to look up to meet James’s eyes anymore. “

“What do you mean? Isn’t James 5’2? At least that’s what he told me a while ago, and I’ve always thought that since then. Why would you be able to see him eye to eye, if he’s like 2 inches taller?” 

“Umm, hate to break it to you Lexie, and I think it’d be ridiculous if this is still a secret and I was ratting him out, but James pretty much wears lifts in all his shoes! Even his slippers! Can you believe that? I don’t even get why. And I’m not even sure how tall he really is but he totally wears something like 2 inch lifts in all his shoes.”

“Wha…what? Really? OMG! I can’t believe that! And why would he be so secretive about that? It’s not like any of our friends are even close to in competition with him? I mean even Rach, the shortest of us, is what? 5’4 or something? Still noticeably taller than him. Why would he lie? No, no, I gotta see this myself! Can you ask him to come on by here? Just make up some excuse…Make it seem like it’s an emergency or something. “

Kayla and James returned a few minutes later just slightly out of breath, as if they had been rushing, with Lauren following in her heels several steps behind.

“Kayla said you had a toilet that wouldn’t flush and needed a guy’s help pronto? Glad I could step in as the guy next door. Now where is this problem crapper, haha?”

“Ah, “ I said, “thanks big guy. But just as Kayla ran out it started to work, so no problem anymore. But totally appreciate your running over!” With one hand, I squeezed him on his shoulder. Tousling his hair, as I may have wanted to do, just seemed a bit too disrespectful.

“But, hey, now that you’re here, I kinda just heard you wear lifts? That can’t be right, can it? I mean, why would you even want to?”

“Umm…” I could tell James was caught off guard by my question, and probably was figuring out the ruse he fell for to get him to come over. “Well, umm, yes, I do wear lifts. It’s just because it’s kinda embarrassing to stand so much shorter than pretty much most of the girls, let alone all guys. Fine, you’re just a giant, but even most girls are way taller than me so I don’t like to admit, or show off, I’m even shorter than what I say. But, whatever, no biggie, the secret’s out I guess. “

“O, James, sorry! I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about it. God knows, most of the time I wish I was shorter too so I could fit in better. But what can you do? You deal with what God blessed you. And trust me, I am the last person to worry about an inch here or there.” At this point, I looked at Georgie, to catch him looking at me with a quiet knowing smile forming on his face.  “So come on, embrace the truth now and let’s see you in your bare feet!” I hoped my positive attitude would decrease any possible lingering uncomfortableness of the whole situation.

“Well, fine, ok… Give me a sec.”

As James took off his sneakers and lowered to the ground, I could definitely recognize a drop in his altitude. Fine, I had grown a bit in the past few years, but still I was (quietly) awestruck (!!) by how small my next door neighbor, my best male friend, the guy I had actually danced with at three mid-year dances over the past few years, truly stood.

Knowing he was 5’2 was hard enough, but realizing now he was even slightly shorter than that, just blew my mind. He was -- no, I mean he is still -- my best male friend, and I’m glad we danced together, but that he is just so much shorter is kinda funny and weird, if you know what I mean. I mean, as fun as my friend Eric from LPA is, I don’t think I would enjoy dancing with him too much with his standing at knee height (but shhh, don’t tell him). Haha, don’t even get me started on Georgie. Sure, I am happy to dance with anyone for a time, but to honestly enjoy a dance you gotta lean in on the guy. I don’t expect to meet or dance with someone taller than me, I’m fine with that, but he’s gotta be at least shoulder height! Anyhow, James reminded me now of Danny Devito, though maybe a third of his weight. James was really skinny, scrawny even, and now in his bare feet, he just seemed so very slight, almost like a breeze could blow him over. Lauren always kinda seems that way, but she also kinda looks lots younger than she is, and is most definitely lots shorter. And a girl. 

“Wait, so you’ve always said you’re 5’2, right? So, err, what are you actually?”

“Well the lifts are definitely about 2.5 inches. So I’d like to say I’m 5’1 … but truth is I’m not even sure.”

“In that case, I think we need to measure you precisely! I’ve just measured myself too so the tape is not far. Do you mind?” 

As James shook his head, Kayla jumped up and said “why not measure us together? Like, compare our heights…please? “ 

I hesitated then. But looking at James, he didn’t seem too concerned. As I pulled each of them together, back to back, my gut kinda wrenched. I don’t like the whole comparison thing - each family member should be appreciated on his/her own, height included. But I get the curiosity thing. People are forever comparing me and Georgie, as if the fact that we both come from the same parents and gene pool means we both must share the exact same height. Ha…as anyone can attest, we are both individuals.

But anyhow, Kayla asked, begged really, so I hoped James wouldn’t mind too much. At first glance I was surprised to see that James and Kayla appeared near similar. But that’s when I noticed James standing on his tip-toes. “O, come on!” I said good-naturedly as I patted down on his head, forcing him to stand down, and he laughed a bit. A nervous laugh, to be sure. But I laughed too, hopefully making light of the whole situation, as I moved my palm from Kayla’s head down towards James’s.

There was no doubt, Kayla was taller than him by a good two inches. Maybe even more. I pulled the tape measure to measure them and Kayla stood a solid 5’2.5, and James an even 5 nothing.

“Well, damn, James, you are short! Don’t get me wrong, I love short guys,” – we all looked to Georgie at the same time – “but I hadn’t figured you shorter than your little sister!” 

“Come on, Lex, you’re used to that. God, just look at you and your older brother!“ That was Lauren piping up. “And just look at me. Lord knows I’m used to being the older and way shorter one too. I definitely don’t need to tell you, but people are alwaaaays mistaking me for a 7 year old, which I hate, and recently they’ve even started asking me if Kayla, my younger by 10 years(!) sister, is my older sis!! Don’t worry, Kay, I still love you! Lex, not everyone can be 6’7, you know!”

“Haha, well, you’ll be happy to know… that I am no longer 6’7. I just found out that I grew an inch recently, so ya, I’m a monster!” 

“Nah, you’re not a monster, just extremely tall. But look at me and James,” Kayla said. “Beside the height thing, I’m like two of him, I don’t think he can even move me, let alone beat me in b-ball.”

It’s true, Kayla was on the big-boned side, probably weighing a good 140 to James’ I would guess 115.

“And look at how small his hands are!” They compared hands and Kayla’s was noticeably bigger. I forced James to compare with me and Lord, his hand was really so small, his fingers ended before my second knuckle. Why had I never noticed that before?

“What the hell is this? Gang up on the little guy? Why is Georgie getting off so easy? Haha, no offense G! No, but really what the hell? Leave me be, for Pete’s sake! Besides, that’s why I don’t play piano. But don’t judge me based on my hand size... Not everything’s in synch haha."

We all kinda laughed at that. As uncomfortable as this was making us all, even if no one wanted to admit it, I still kinda wanted to have some fun with it. 

“Ok, so Kayla’s comment got me thinking. Let’s all play this game, where everyone tries to push over the other one. Like, I stand still and, say, Georgie, come on over and try push me back.”

I take it everyone was kinda bored because no one actually tried to stop me; they all just went with my idea. The G man, took a running start and made contact with both his hands at my mid-calf on one leg (there was no way he was gonna reach both my legs at once if I stood shoulder length apart). Looking down, I smirked, as I hadn’t moved an inch. “Well that was unexpected…NOT,” was all the little guy could say as he looked back up at me. Haha, he’s just lucky he didn’t bounce far when he made contact with me! 

“Ok, ok, but I’m sure not all of you will be the same. Come on, Lauren, you try now.” The cutie-pie (ya, that’s what I think of her, although I am sure she wouldn’t appreciate it if I called her that to her face), also took a running start, trying to push me back, which she did…a quarter inch. I dont consider myself strong, but come on, 75 pounds really can’t possibly make a dent against nearly 200 pounds. Now, Lauren’s friend Denise, at 5’4, 450 pounds (literally!), might have produced a different result; but thankfully she wasn’t here.

Next up, came James. I was surprised at how weak his push was. I know he’s small, and really really thin, but somehow I had figured his being a guy and all, he’d have more muscle power. But, nope, it was a bit more than Lauren, but still didn’t come anywhere near to moving me. When I pushed (not even that hard) against James, he couldn’t hold still and wobbled backwards several feet. Kayla succeeded in moving me back, but I easily got her back too. She successfully moved Lauren and James too, as if they were small children. Not surprisingly, neither of them could move her too much. 

Wow, the difference in strength and size between the three of them was incredible. I may not have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. I hugged James close to me, knowing the little man was probably feeling less secure, less manly, than a few minutes before. I still respect him, and love him as a friend, but I realize now that I wouldn’t necessarily ask him to help me move a couch or something (don’t hate me for my feelings!).

Anyhow, when we finished and I was high-fiving each of them (for G I high fived him with my foot; do you realize how far down I have to bend just to reach his high five?), the doorbell rang again. I opened it to find Jessica from down the block standing there. Jessi was in 6th grade, 12 years old, with long wavy red hair and pretty tall for her age at 5’9. And very clearly a girl who liked to work out. She must have weighed a healthy 140 or so, and while not muscle-bound like a lifter, her weight was evenly distributed which contributed to her looking much older than her true age. 

“Hi Lexie! My mom said your brother is good at math and I need help for school. Is it ok if I ask him stuff?”

“Sure, come on in. You can ask Georgie yourself.”

“I’m not even sure I know who he is–“

As she walked in, you could tell her eyes went wide in surprise, and she paused in mid-sentence, realizing all the (relatively) little (but older?) people standing and staring in front of her.

“O. My. I feel so awkward. Like I just walked in to a place where everyone is supposed to be tiny!” She blurted it out, as if expressing her innermost thoughts, but, blushing, caught herself only at the end when she must have realized how impolite it sounded.

I stood on Jessi’s side and held her shoulders as I introduced her to everybody. “Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to Jessi from down the block.” I wasn’t sure who knew each other but it’s always better to chance re-introducing than assume everyone knows each other. As we stood there, me and Jessi, I realized how awkward indeed the situation was. Although I was still barefoot and Jessi was in her huge (size 10? that’s what I would guess) sneakers, we both were so much taller than the others, it was hard to believe Jessi was the youngest in the room. Still, somehow I felt good to finally have someone nearby who was close to my height (ok, about a foot less than me but that’s a lot closer than anyone else in the room!).

As I introduced everyone in turn, Jessi’s eyes riveted from 15 year old Kayla, some 3 years older but 8 inches shorter (considering Kayla was still barefoot and Jessi walked in with her sneakers), to James, also barefoot, a senior in high school (!!) but so much shorter and skinnier than her it was almost comical (omg but he’s so cute! was all she could think), to tiny Lauren, in her heels but so much older (right?) and still as tiny as a six or seven year old, to the barefoot super tiny human being (is he even real?) that resembled a doll (he seems smaller than my kitten at home. Is that possible? She wasn’t sure but she would definitely have to check about that later). 

“O! is this Georgie? I’ve seen him around but never realized he was your brother, Lexie, you being so incredibly tall! How did that even happen? But, o, he’s so cute! Oh my God, can I lift him up?”

“Umm, Jessi, he’s a real live human being and he’s standing right there in front of you. Why don’t you just ask him yourself? And remember you came here to ask him to help you, so be nice!” 

Jessi squatted as she started speaking. Even from that height though she thoroughly dwarfed the little man. “Hey Georgie, I’m Jessi, as you just heard. I kinda need help with math. I heard you’re amazing at that! My mom will pay you to tutor me a bit. What do you say? And, while I’m at it, please can I pick you up? Just for a sec?”

Georgie smiled. That was always a good sign. If people bother him you can tell pretty quickly with his scowls.

“First, thanks so much for asking me! You have no idea how much I hate when complete strangers come up to me and just pick me up without even asking. It happens very often. So, sure, you can lift me; just don’t pick me up too quickly since I can get sick that way.”

“O, yay!” Jessi squealed.

As Jessi bent to lift the little guy, G told her he’d love to tutor her in math. “But it has to be in this house. I can’t really go out, even just down the block, on my own. It’d just be easier here. Do you mind? Is that ok with your mom?”

“OMG, you’re so much smaller than I expected! My mom said you’re little but you’re like a little teddy bear! How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking? I think my one year old brother is your size! And ya, totally think I could come here to be tutored."

Usually G hates when strangers squeal about him, and make all those comparing statements but I could tell G somehow got a kick out of Jessi’s curiosity and wonder so let it all pass.

“I’m 25 and I am definitely smaller than your one year old brother or even newborn cousin, both height and weight-wise. So ya, just put me down on the living room table here, and let’s get started with your lesson.”

So Jessi placed barefoot G on the table as she sat down on one of the seats. Even seated, Jessi was taller than G standing up on the table. It reminded me how often G would explain math to me as a 13 year old, with my newly developed globes, resting on the table top as he stood barefoot on the same top. G, at age 21, probably couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by my size. At 6’1, I was downright scrawny at 120 pounds, but my globes, at 34B, were growing steadily. Then, as now, I hated to have them locked in a bra so often allowed them airspace at home. It must have been more than challenging for little G, standing on the tabletop but still much shorter than his sister sitting down, to not stare at them all the while he was teaching me algebra. He may be tiny but, I’m sure, his hormones work just fine.

When my friend Zoey came over, all 5’10 of her, sometimes also to partake in the math tutoring session, she would often say how G reminded her of a little kitten, as he walked around near knee height to us and then under the table. It was true: G was, and still is, just taller than the average cat so walking around while we sat high above him in our chairs really made us think of kitten and cats. Once, before we told her not to do it again, Zoey brought her pet kitten with her when she came to visit. The kitten was fine most of the time, but once got a bit ticked at something and stood on its hind legs and Georgie, walking in from another room unaware, became literally terrified to see the kitten standing taller than him and baring its teeth high above him. Just imagine if a giant cat, say, a lion, came up to you and stood on its hind legs in front of you. You would be frightened too! 

Anyhow, a half hour of G explaining to Jessi the math was soon over and Jessi jumped up, kissing G on the cheek, thanking him profusely for all the help. She was in a rush to get to her basketball practice but she would love to come over sometime soon again, for more help. Would G mind?

“Not at all, sweetheart, it’s a pleasure to tutor you!”

G really is a gentleman when it comes to these things. It’s hard for most people to see it, since they are often too over-awed by his size that his demeanor doesn’t even register with them. As his sister, though, I see that part of his personality shine a lot. And I am so proud to call him my brother at such times. Even if he is teeny tiny.

As Jessi prepared to leave, all the rest of us were still standing around talking. Jessi had to bend low to reach Lauren, in her heels, in order to hug. Kayla on tip toes, and then me, bending a bit, both hugged Jessi. James, still barefoot, came up to her to say goodbye as well. The 18 year old barely reached the 12 year old’s shoulder.

“Wow, you’re so cute! A pipsqueak, but cute” was Jessi’s way of tending her goodbye to James. Bending down low again, she tried with one hand to keep her hair out of her eyes, and with the other brought James closer in a hug, managing to kiss him at the same time. James, blushing, seemed preparing his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Apparently he was too flustered to respond.

I knew then that I couldn’t bear to let Jessi leave without comparing her strength to us. “Hey James, do you think you can lift Jessi? Or beat her in an arm wrestle?” 

“Lift her? Arm wrestle? Lex, what the hell is the matter with you today? She’s 12 for God’s sake! It wouldn’t be right of me to lift her. And arm wrestle? God, we're seniors, Lex, in case you forgot. It’s not like I need to prove my seniority to her!”

“I don’t know, James, kinda sounds like you’re scared…”

“I’m not scared, I’m just…“

"O come on, short stuff, I’m only 12. I’m sure you’d kill me in arm wrestle. And you look like you’re strong, I’m sure you could lift me.”

Well, that was enough of a challenge to test James’ masculinity. I could see his mind working a mile a minute trying to figure out some way to wiggle out of it. But in the end, he tried lifting, even moving her, but couldn’t budge her. Jessi for her part easily lifted James above her head. She lifted Lauren even higher. I lift Lauren on my shoulders but I had never tried with James. Of course when I did, it was no problem. The little guy is so light I thought he might launch into space as I lifted him. At the arm wrestle Jessi obviously had a size advantage, her arm much longer, not to mention her weight advantage and being much stronger than James. She beat him with hardly any challenge from him.

I couldn’t let Jessi go without arm wrestling her myself. I beat her, again because of my size advantage, but God, she did put up a good fight.

As they stood up, James looked up at Jessi, and said, “wow, all I have to say is, thank the Good Lord we’re friends. Just remember, though, I’m older!”

Jessi, for her part, patted James on the head and said “you’re awful cute, you know? Can I go with you to prom?”

We all squealed at that: here was a 12 year old asking an 18 year old out to his prom! I had already decided not to go with James to prom this year because of the height thing but I assumed James had many other female possibilities. What would he say to Jess?   

I won’t spoil James’ reputation by writing what transpired exactly but by the end of the night it was obvious to all of us that although she was much younger than all the rest of us, we all enjoyed hanging out with Jessi. We decided thereafter we would have to include her when hanging out or any other future plans together.

Well, I sure was glad we found out James’ true height at that time. After all, the mid-year dance at the end of January was coming up. Like I’ve mentioned, James and I have gone together to the mid-year dance at our school for three years already. It may have looked a bit ridiculous for a 6 foot, and then much taller, girl and a 5’2 or something guy to dance, and of course, each year it got worse, but everyone knew we were neighbors and friends so minus a laugh or two, they let it pass. And I was ready to overlook it too (haha pun intended), thinking he was 5’2 and a bit more in his shoes, but when I found out he was a mere 5 foot nothing, and only pretending to 3 inches or so taller, well that combined with my now 6’8 (and possibly more?) stature, just pushed me over the edge. I mean 20 inches difference is major (I know, I know, even 6 inches is major but at my size everything must be increased).

I love James like a brother, even a teeny tiny one, but come on, I can’t really dance with someone that size. And he agreed with me, I knew. If he was so into taller girls, maybe he really should take Jessi up on her offer? Haha, I guess I’d find out at the dance itself. I mean, there are girls in the 5’9-5’10 range in our class, but I guess the majority are in the 5’4-5’6 range; in either case, James has a large assortment to choose from. And regarding me, I was a senior this year; this would be my last chance at one of these things. I needed someone taller. Preferably, much taller. And the choices for me were, well, non-existent.

So I must say I was really happy to hear from Rach and Zoey that they knew someone for me, and would arrange my meeting him. What did “for me” mean exactly? I asked them. Charlie, they told me, lived in the same city but on the other edge of town so went to a different school. Zoey ever so casually mentioned to me that he was 7 foot even. I was surprised, maybe even astonished, I hadn’t met or even heard of him yet. I mean, how many other really tall seniors were in this town? You’d think all of us would know each other by now. Why had Zoey and Rach never mentioned him before, or gotten us to meet?

Whatever. I was super excited to say the least. It would be so nice to know, dance and maybe date a guy I could actually look up into his eyes. Short people – oops, sorry, I mean average size people -- really just take it for granted that a girl looks up into her guy’s eyes. Nope, sorry, that’s never happened to this girl here. 

Anyhow, in the days leading up to the dance, Charlie and I talked on the phone so we kinda got to know each other. We sent each other pics, but we both knew it wasn’t quite the same as actually meeting face to face. (O my God, even just that phrase has me shuddering in excitement. Do you realize how long it’s been since I’ve been able to talk to someone face to face, and not face to my shoulders or boobs? O, this is gonna be so great!!).

Charlie was (obviously!) a center on the b-ball team, but he says he wasn’t really into the game. He played because everyone assumed he would, given his height. He much preferred carpentry and had even built furniture kinda stuff for his family. I told him I was really impressed and could so totally relate. I hate b-ball actually, and even though lots of people tried to get me to play on the team I rarely showed up for practice and hardly ever for games (except for a few times my first year). I played for the volleyball team and really liked it. I wasn’t sure if I had a hobby I liked.

But whatever, I’m not gonna bore you all with everything we talked about. We arranged that Charlie would pick me up at my house next Sunday night and from there we’d go to the dance at school…and afterwards, who knows?

Looking back, though, I guess I hadn’t told him everything…by which, I mean about Georgie, and I guess Rach and Zoey also hadn’t, for which I love them so much! I mean come on, my life should not really revolve around little G just because he’s so, umm, famous (sorry, buddy!). I guess I figured I would tell Charlie when the time came. 

I actually went to a dressmaker (classy, right?) to make me a dress for the evening. First, because I just don’t usually wear dresses, and second, since I had grown a bit recently if I had had anything it wouldn’t have fit me. Third, at my size, you can’t exactly pull a cool dress off the rack. And I wanted something snazzy for the dance. Anyway, she is just amazing and made a beautiful (!!) lavender sleeveless dress that I was sure was too revealing for a high school dance (umm especially since I don’t wear bras too often, including that night) but I didn’t care. I was a senior, and damn it, I wanted to have fun!

I also got a new pair of heels, since I also don’t normally wear heels, because, come on, I’m freakishly tall but I knew you needs heels with a dress, so I relented. It is also soo hard to find heels in size 15 but, thankfully, online I finally did, in a really cool violet color to go perfectly with my dress. Also the fact that Charlie was so tall made it easier for me to swallow the idea about wearing heels.

So that Sunday evening just as I was putting on my earrings, I heard his car drive up. Excitedly, I ran down the hall and opened the door just as he was about to knock. I remember my initial thoughts upon first seeing him in person: tall, he’s so tall, hallelujah! Taller than me at 6’8 even in my 3 inch heels! And good looking! Charlie has dark brown hair and dreamy blue eyes and such an adorable smile! And he wasn’t incredibly thin as so many tall guys my age are. I had been scared I would outweigh him by a lot but nope, Charlie clearly worked out, his body toned and with a clearly muscular chest. Fine, yes, he’s hot!! Big points in his favor! 

I welcomed him in, we hugged hello, and I told him we could leave just as soon as I told my brother. As I turned around to call Georgie, I caught sight of Lauren’s little girl size 2 sneakers, lined up neatly against the wall near my humongous size 15s. The sight of, and contrast between, the two sizes so near each other made me giggle a little, and I also wondered at the same time how Lauren had managed to get into the house without my hearing it. Did she crawl through G’s doggie door in the back? I suppose if anyone other than G could, it might be Lauren. But maybe she just has a key to our house? Not impossible, seeing how she and G are so close and it would be helpful for him if a neighbor had a spare key. In any event, there was no doubting that Lauren was in the house.

So as I called Georgie for him to come out so I could say good bye before leaving, he and Lauren came running into the hall. I could tell as soon as I saw her that Lauren hadn’t expected company, by which I mean anyone other than me, in the house and certainly not as dressed up as me and Charlie were. Lauren, barefoot and hair a mess, wearing sweat pants and an oversized (for her!) t-shirt, neither of which was especially recommending of her true age, stopped short (hehe) and red-faced as she entered the hallway and saw us two well-dressed giants. I sensed her reaction right away and motioned her closer to me with my right hand.

As I brought her close to me, I noticed immediately that with her barefoot and me in my new (modest!) heels, the top of her head didn’t even reach my belly button. I knew this because my new beautiful (have I said that enough yet?) dress has an eye-shaped hole around my belly button. I cannot even describe what a rush that was for me! I’ve known of course that Lauren is small, and I know plenty of much smaller adults, but that she was (suddenly?) so much shorter than me seriously made me giddy. It may be because I see Lauren so often only in heels, hardly ever barefoot, and of course, like I’ve said, I rarely wear heels myself, so it is a rare occasion when those two facts coincide.   

Without missing a beat, as I gently hugged Lauren’s shoulder into and below my hip, I introduced her to Charlie. “Charlie,“ I said, “I’d like you to meet a really close friend of the family, and our next door neighbor, Lauren, whom we all absolutely adore. Lauren, this is Charlie, my new friend and…my date for the evening.”

The problem was I hadn’t prepared Charlie for any of this, so whatever came out of his mouth must be understood retroactively, I’m embarrassed to admit, as a fairly natural reaction. 

As Lauren smiled, turning her head all the way up to see, beyond the curve of my boobs, and eventually the bottom of my chin, Charlie bent his head down in her direction and very good-naturedly said “Hi cutie, are you in 3rd grade? My sister is 8 also and goes to McKinley and looks just like you!” 

“Err, no...” began Lauren, but I jumped in, “No, no, no, Charlie, I should’ve told you before. Lauren may be very small, her face may make her seem much younger, but she’s 25 years old. And while I may be a wee bit taller now, there was a time when I physically had to look up to her too!”

By now my two hands were gently massaging around Lauren’s tiny shoulders.

“Yeah, but then you turned 5 and overtook me forever,” Lauren giggled with delight at the memory. “But, Jeez Louise, look at the two of you! You’re both so unbelievably tall! I’m tiny, I know, but I’ve never felt so small in my life! What are you, like 7 foot?”

As Charlie smiled and nodded, he added “yes, but I am so sorry for thinking you so young! I feel so bad, I’m usually much more polite than that. And I am so happy to get to know you. Any friend of Lexie is a friend of mine now!”

“Umm,” I said, cutting in, ”hate to cut this chit-chat short hehehe, but we have to get going. Charlie,” I said as I moved a step towards Georgie, who had been standing silently waiting a step or two behind Lauren all this time, and extending my arm straight down, continued “I’d like you to meet my big, err, older, brother, Georgie, who is also 25. We may look a little different, but I utterly and completely worship him. And while I have never in my life had to physically look up to G, I absolutely have always, and still today, respect him, and indeed look up to him figuratively, for so much.”

I could tell Charlie was flustered. I guess not everyone knows of, or expects his date’s brother to be, the famous teeny tiny legend of my town. It’s one thing to read about the phenom that is barely a foot and half tall, it’s quite another to stare down at him as he stands barefoot in front of you.

So you have to understand, and excuse Charlie as his face contorted in bewilderment, as he nearly shoved these next words out of his mouth: “He’s ... he’s real? But…but…but…Oh my God, I really thought he was Lauren’s doll! Wow, that was a dumb thing to say. I am so embarrassed. Sorry! But…Good to meet you…big guy!” 

Charlie bent way down and extended his incredibly long arm and his full hand towards G. I gently touched Charlie’s shoulder and whispered to him through a smile and clenched teeth that a single finger would be more than sufficient for Georgie. Charlie shifted very gracefully and extended his right forefinger, which G grabbed with both his tiny hands (still not entirely covering its length) and shook vigorously.  “No problem, dude, as you can imagine the exact thing happens a lot to me!”

I was standing directly behind G now, with my new dress reaching my knees, still many inches above G’s head. I knew, of course, that he had a perfect view all the way up to my panties. I know this, because it’s happened so often in the past, although admittedly today in my heels I was much higher above his head then he’d had ever seen. I was also at a loss, though, as I wanted to bend down and pick him up but I also didn’t want to risk creasing the new dress. Thankfully Lauren sensed my uncertainty, bent down and picked up G over her head, so he was in closer distance to Charlie. 

As I grabbed G from Lauren, I held him near my shoulder, as one might an infant. and told him how Charlie and I were going to spend some time together, including the school dance and a movie after, so don’t stay up for me. Gently, I kissed him on his forehead, Charlie smiled too, and G nodded and said “I got it. Have fun!” I bent at my knee and placed G softly down nearby.

I turned to tell Charlie that we should go before we miss the beginning of the dance, and then remembering something, turned around to see G, who hadn’t moved, all the way down near my heels. “I forgot to tell you," I began looking down in his direction, “I made some tuna casserole I left in the fridge. Hope you like it! You’ll be good?” In answer, G just wrapped his tiny hands and body around my left lower leg and hugged me, “you be good. I’ll be fine.” 

Hugging my lower leg is as close to normal hugging as G can manage. I smiled, and then turned a bit red-faced in Charlie’s direction. I know it’s normal for me, and I guess Lauren too, but outsiders who have never seen G, or at least our interaction, probably see that hug as just pretty weird. 

As I took two steps away towards the door, I heard G call me. I turned around and, waving my hair away from my face, turned my face down to see what he wanted.  “Lex, umm,” and at this point G motioned with his finger for me to get closer. This time I had no choice so bent down at my knee and leaned in and down towards G, as he got closer and made an attempt to whisper in my ear. “Lex, I know you’re feeling kinda plucky and fearless – because you’re wearing those wild green panties which you wear when you feel that way.”

I could feel my face go red. I wasn’t angry, just amused, and not a little embarrassed, that my older brother was not only privy to that information regarding my panties (he was totally right, by the way!), but that he actually knew – in his case, saw – that I was wearing them now! “Just be careful, is all I’m saying. Don’t go all out right away. Give it time. Even if you’re feeling, umm, up to it.” 

I gently kissed him on his forehead as my hand, covering the entire back of his head and torso, moved him closer to me. “Don’t worry, G. I love you!" Standing up, I again realized how easy it indeed was for G to see straight up my legs. Green panties in particular probably contrasted with the lavender of the dress to create a stark, easily visible, difference. Anyhow, I waved down to G, "See you later! Lauren, see you later too!”

As I closed the door behind me, I could see them both standing there, waving me good bye.

I really want to tell you how my night with Charlie was but I know this is G’s log and I don’t want to hog up more space than necessary. I can say we talked a lot about Georgie, and how he's managed in his life this long. But we talked about other things too. 

I also want to emphasize that Charlie is really romantic. I am just so happy to have met him and can’t believe it’s been so long that we’ve lived in the same town and never met before. Briefly, we did go to the school dance and then saw a movie (funny!) afterwards. I can’t tell you how thrilling that was – to finally have a guy who can look you in the eye while we danced! That’s never happened to me before. I could’ve stayed there all night. Charlie kissed me, and I mean really kissed, and my head nearly exploded. 

I am sure we were a scene on that dance floor, and people there are probably still talking about it. It’s probably not that often you get to see two (almost) 7 footers dancing, and so romantically at that. I’ve gone out with guys before, and even danced with some, but there is no doubt this was my first real date. I probably sound like all other giddy-in-love 17 year olds, but fuck it, I deserve to be this happy. You all agree, right?

Of course, before he dropped me off at home, he asked if he could take me to upcoming school dances and...more? I don't think I gave it even 2 seconds before I answered.