I do love the play on Robert Browning's most famous quote. I feel taller than I look with my little grasp.
My hubby is 6’4. I’d still love him the same if 5’4.
& he’s an amazing husband. I fell in love with him, not his height.
My Dad is 5’7. My parents have been married 50 years so guess the better husband thing is to each their own.
My wife’s ex was a 5’4” runt who turned out to be an alcoholic and a cheat. She is 5’7” and I’m 6’2”, which is a better match.
I fail to see why differences in heights make any more of a difference than other physical characteristics such as eye or hair color.
The sole exception I could see is if the couple were obsessed with having sexual intercourse only in a standing position. Then vast height differences could be problematic.
Worked for a short guy. He had the disease. Took Karate’. Tried to disarm two guys robbing his wife’s parent’s restaurant at 3am. Bullet between the eyes. Gone.
“...his uxorious devotion to his wife Josephine, whom he left only because he wanted to leave the French with a male heir.”
Yeah. He was a keeper. Let’s not forget that even when his French wife gave up her lovers, he refused to give up his. Then he abandoned her because his ambitions were greater than his vaunted devotion. Napoleon is not the guy you should look to for any moral or marital guidance. And most short men aren’t even slightly comparable to that megalomaniac.
I think a lot of us men fool ourselves about what our exact height is. I recall as I was growing up, my Dad always described himself as ‘six feet tall’. Even as a child of eight or nine, I could see that he was nowhere near six feet, and I could see that this number meant a lot to him, so I kept my mouth shut like a good boy.
I grew up to be about his height, and for years, through art school, through the navy, I described myself as being “Five-Eleven’. I lied for so long, I started to believe it myself. I’m now 58. About six years ago, a nurse assistant at Kaiser took my height on one of the old fashioned scales where you lift this metal lever to sit on top of the head. She measures my height, and (loudly!) announces my height as being a whopping “Five feet, Eight inches tall”. I about died in a silent state of shock. Five eight?? Why, that’s almost elfin, only a bit more than Aboriginine!! I faked a casual voice and said “Oh, I was moving around when you took my height. Would you please take it one more time with me standing still? “Sure!” This time, it measured Five seven and three quarters!! I stopped asking at that point. Now, I don’t lie anymore. I’m too old. I’ve accepted that it is my fate to be only Five-Eight.
I was warned years ago by a very experienced pastor in his 80’s, watch out for short men. In most cases, he was right.
A short rich man is tall enough when he stands on his wallet!
My husband is short. He always says he’s tall enough, his feet touch the ground.
OK, where’s the pic of the diminutive Dennis Kucinich & his 6’ 4” redheaded Amazon wife?