Little Person, Big World

Riding in the car with my sister and mom to Chino, I noticed a blue sign on a silver Mercedes that read "LITTLE PEOPLE ON BOARD." I was immediately excited at the prospect, because I rarely see midgets, particularly driving! I'm always curious. I mean, do they have some sort of lever and pulley system to work the pedals? Can they handle a manual shift? Do they have special seats? I always see this sign on my cars that says no one under 4'10 or under 90 pounds should be in the front. My mind worked faster than it ever had trying to figure all this out. At last, I was finally getting the answer to my question, and I could taste it as I peered over the door to see the answer to this mystery of life.

There, in the backseat, sat what appeared to be a twelve year old little blond girl, being driven by her very full-grown father. All of a sudden my curiosity turned to anger. I don't see the right that this little girl has to earn that sign. She looks way past five feet, certainly not little. At 22 years old, I am an inch under that height. If there's going to be any kind of accident, shouldn't she be the one to get hit? She's in a Mercedes so she's already got the safety advantage. Plus, she looks as if she's on her way to soccer practice, and the muscle mass I've got is equivalent to that muscle mass on our Chihuahua. There is no reason why I would choose to save her over me, besides that fact that I love me, and I would hate for me to die.

Stewing away in the backseat, I look around at our car, full of other very short people, and within seconds I'm completely convinced that the sign is on the wrong car.