Ah, there it is, I thought as I spotted that box of cereal I wanted. It was on a top shelf, two lengths back. Totally out of my reach. Not even by hopping on one foot and stretching my arm as far as it reached was it possible to grasp that box.

Seems like it happens every time I shop for my favorite cereal. With rows and rows of all kinds of cereal sitting in place in the store, the very box I shop for challenges me. I can either walk away disgusted or look around for a kind soul tall enough to reach up and pull the box out for me. I usually find that person and walk off thanking him (or her) profusely.

That is just one example being short presents. When you stand slightly above 5 feet tall, you encounter problems.

I was small for my age. I always wound up in a front row seat in a classroom. I never thought of it as an advantage in those days. However, in later years, I’ve often thought it would be nice to have someone seating people by their heights at concerts, plays and even church. That way, I could be directed close to the front for an excellent view, just like in school. Some people might hate front row seats, but I would rather see what is going on than being afforded the opportunity to count the blemishes on the neck in front of me.

It reminds me of the time my husband and I accompanied another couple to a church service. When we arrived, hundreds of people were being seated in the massive sanctuary. We found seats a few rows behind the middle section and carefully arranged ourselves so the other shorty in our party and I could see up front. That was fine for a few minutes, but soon the crowd swelled even more. We found ourselves shifting left, leaving me only a slight peephole at a spot that had been wide open before. The other shorty had to crane her neck for even an opening.

As if that move hadn’t messed things up enough, people ahead of us shifted right, allowing a latecomer to pick his way toward the middle of the pew in front of us and plop down. He was four shoulders wide and towered almost a head above mine. Then a man even wider and taller fitted into a seat several rows ahead of him.

With all those barriers ahead of us. my friend and I had to imagine what the speakers looked like while we gazed straight ahead into a block of broad shoulders in a dark suit. My friend gave me that “Oh no, not again” look and shrugged. Might as well just sit back and relax. We did.

As is nature’s way, neither of us grew taller. So, ah, pardon me sir, would you mind handing me that box of cereal on the top shelf?

Nina Keenam is a former resident of Baldwin County and Staff Writer for The Foley Onlooker.