Although I recognize that the situation is entirely out of my control, I feel I owe you an apology.
At this point in your life, at least, you have short legs and wide feet. And it’s all my fault.
Your daddy has pretty regular feet, and comes from a long-legged people. I, on the other hand, come from a stock of people your grandma once referred to as “short English people with wide feet who like to eat.” In other words, hobbits.
While I’m delighted with how much you like to eat, the feet thing is kind of a bummer. Let me tell you now, it’s just easier to shop for shoes online. You may not care about this in the future, but trust me that I’m saving you a headache or two, okay? Also, I hope you like the cuffed look, because all of your pants are too long for you, and I don’t really see that situation changing any time soon. Even my “short” pants are too long for me sometimes. Sigh.
To me, one of the greatest mysteries about you is whether you’ll be a runner, like your dad, a dedicated walker, like me, or somewhere in between. I know you are your own person, and in some (most) ways you may not take after either of us. But if physicality has any role to play in this situation, it looks like you’re taking the longer route wherever you’re going. Again, I’m sorry.
This is not to say that any of this should stop you from going after your dreams. You might need a ladder to reach that high, but I’m happy to hold it steady for you. And in the meantime, your legs, short as they are, work just fine. You can walk, you can sit and stand, and man, oh man, can you dance.
Short, tall, wide, or narrow, I will always love you, little boy. You will forever be my favorite little half-hobbit. Is there a word for that? I just tried to look it up, but the forum was kind of beyond me. I guess we’ll have to study our heritage together, when the time comes.
Until then, I give you all my love,