Camper-sized

I stopped growing in the 7th grade. At the time, I was about average, maybe slightly taller than average, with ginormous hands and feet - so we all assumed I was going to be huge (well, taller than my parents, which isn't exactly huge). But, no... I'm the same size I was in 7th grade, just with an extra 10 pounds that came with maturity.

I remember once cutting out the words "Fun Size" from a fun size M&M's packet and taped it to my bookbag like a button in early high school. Which is sad, because even though I was poking a little fun at myself, at that time I still had hopes of a growth spurt.

That said, it shouldn't really be a big surprise that at a camp for 3rd through 7th graders last week (mixed with 8th-10th graders for mealtimes), I was frequently mistaken for a camper from behind by the other counselors. What's worse, these counselors have known me for several years now, and it happens every year! Kind of a bummer, but what can you do? At least the campers knew I was just a camper-sized grown-up.

But as I sit here going through my emails about my trip to St. Jude Research Hospital next week in my role as one of the AC Up 'til Dawn advisors (have I mentioned this?), I realize that this upcoming experience might be worse. Not worse in the fact that I'd be mistaken for an 18-22 year-old instead of a 9-12 year-old (no, that's growing up 10 perceived years in 2 weeks, so that's good), but worse in that everyone will think I'm a different age than I am - staff, students, other advisors, patients, parents of patients, etc. No one will know upon looking at me that I have my B.A., M.Ed., and an excellent career. Instead, they will ask me what my major is and where I'm interning for the summer.

I read a sentence in my email saying that as we approach the hospital, we will see a bunch of staff members and a flock of college students... which triggered my brain to play a little movie in my head of me walking up to registration with our student leader, and the registration people asking where our advisor is and did we come alone without a chaperone?

Just you wait. Maybe I'll get my camera out and film the whole exchange.

P.S. As you probably know or could tell... I never grew into my hands and feet. Which means at 5'2", I have the hands of a 6'2" male football player. Awe.some.