Sometimes it's good to be short

When the world's most perfect teenager was 10 years old, he hated everything about smoking. Once he even approached a stranger in town and asked if she knew you could die from smoking. So that he wouldn't be tempted or succumb to possible peer pressure and start smoking when he reached his teenage years, we promised him that if he didn't start smoking we would give him a car when he turned 18.

There and then these 8 years felt very far away, but apparently I must have blinked because now there is only 1 year left. With the goal in sight, Junior has started looking at cars and wants a Ferrari Enzo or similar when at best he gets a 10 year old Renault 5.

Yesterday there was a Ferrari Enzo parked a little further down on our street. Junior was completely fascinated until he realized that his 6'2 could be a problem when it comes to getting in and out of the car. It was with malicious-joy I pointed out that sometimes it's good to be short as revenge for all the times he has heckled my 5'6.