The View From UP Here.... makes me feel like I'm 5 FEET TALL!

Have I told you I'm 4'8? I'm sure I have, but just in case you didn't know. I'm 4'8. I have small Filipino parents who then made extra small me. I'm the winner of the short girl Olympics or at least I'm definitely on the podium stand during the awards ceremony. Even if you've never seen me dear reader, you would know better than to let me drive something like this:


Really, you would only need to see my stats on paper and a picture of this truck and be like 'oh no, that fourth grader is NOT driving that vehicle.' But clearly someone has to tell my husband because he is under the delusion that I'm a statuesque supermodel. (well let's just tell him I'm short, we don't want to ruin the supermodel glasses he has on.)

A couple months ago, I turned into a restaurant and curbed our truck, which I do often because what the hey, that's the joy of having a lifted truck right? Jumping the curb and running over cats! Good times! It wouldn't have been a big deal had there not been a short metal pole sticking out of the curb that rammed right into the tire, denting the wheel and causing me to get a flat. If you asked me how I could have made such an error I would have blamed my two stereotypes (Asian. Woman driver) before I blame the fact that I'm the size of a tall toddler and the blind sides on this truck is massive to me. In fact, when you're disturbingly petite such as I, there's even blind sides when driving a grocery cart:

My view from the grocery cart when the car seat is on it. "Dear
shoppers, please watch out for the midget pushing a cart blindly on aisle 6."

Quite frankly, as large as our truck is, I'm surprised I haven't ran into more short stumpy poles.

But enough about my ex-boyfriend's junk..... (ba dum dum).

The tire was jacked and since the rest of the tires were worn out anyways, we decided to go ahead and replace all four. And replace them my husband did.... ..with even BIGGER tires and wheels! ("They were on sale honey!") Sigh. The step sides have been raised almost to my chest so that I have to basically do the lateral splits to even get into damn thing. There are absolutely no skirts in my future if I'm riding in that truck unless I want to advertise the kitty kat to the neighbors or have my husband physically lift me into the car, which is an idea I'm mulling around in my head at this very moment. He owes me a couple of favors after his giant (bargain!) wheels.

I don't even want to tell you how I get my daughter's car seat in there because one day, someone will videotape me at a random Target parking lot doing a squat, pull and military press to get the baby seat inside. Then you can see it for yourself on Youtube because it's definitely not something to be written about as much as it is something to behold.

The practical side of me is making list after list at all the problems the bigger tires are going to throw at me; HOWEVER, the Napoleon complex side had about five mini orgasms just climbing into the front seat. When my view of the world is usually at armpit level, the view of sedan tops from the driver's seat of this truck is pretty awesome (that is if I ignore the fear stricken faces of the people INSIDE the sedans.) And really, after I get in, the adjustable pedals (they move UP to meet my tiny feet) and the very adjustable seat (which moves up, down, front, back, tilts and tap dances) makes it easier to drive than you would think.

The good news is I'm getting another car in the near future that will not require me to don mountain climbing equipment just to get in it. Meanwhile, if you happen to see a black lifted truck appearing to be driven by no one, look closer and you'll probably see me drunk with monster truck power behind the wheel.

Just make sure you step away from the curb and hide your cats.