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Cinderella gets a new pair of shoes

 

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Growing up in a family of height-endowed people, I decided early on that I wanted to grow to be at least 5-feet, 10-inches tall to maintain familial standing, so to speak. My cousin Laura hit 6-feet, so it wasn't an unreasonable aspiration, biologically anyway. By the time I started junior high, my height prospects were bright. I was taller than most of the boys in my class, and I wore size 9 ½ shoes. Feet of that magnitude on an 11-year-old girl held a promise of height-riches untold. I still recall the tragic day in high school when I realized most of the boys were my height or taller, a...



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