OSS stands for Oldest Sibling Syndrome, which is the term for the fact that the oldest child is nearly always the shortest. I have, well, not a lot of data, but three different non-related families to help prove this. In the, let’s call them the J family, Matthew is the oldest, at seventeen, and he is four inches shorter than Michael, who’s fourteen (and 6’2, seriously, it’s ridiculous.) In the B family, Emma is the oldest, also at seventeen, and is a good six inches shorter than sixteen year old Claire. In my family, I’m the oldest, I’m fourteen, and my twelve year old sister has two inches on me.
Of course, I’m just short in general. I’m about 5’1, I have a long torso and short legs, which makes for very difficult pants-shopping. I have relatively wide hips for my size, to the point where I can hang a bag around my hips and have the handle catch on my hipbones, (good for carrying Spawn places), so the only pants that fit my hips and aren’t too tight around my legs end up dangling about four inches past the end of my legs, puddling around my feet and getting caught under my shoes. I really hate skinny jeans, but I end up wearing them anyway because they’re the only ones I can successfully cuff without the hems coming loose and getting underfoot again.
I also have the misfortune of having two extremely tall best friends, one 6’2, (Michael, I mentioned him earlier,) and the other somewhere in the area of 5’6 or 5’7. (Her name’s Chris. She’s seventeen.) Michael’s really great, and has sung “Don’t Stop Believing” while standing on a trash can in full Levi Ackerman cosplay. (For the record, Levi Ackerman is a captain from Attack on Titan, which is an anime. He’s very quiet, serious, and swears a lot in monotone. He also cleans things obsessively.) However, in order to look him in the eye, I have to be standing at least five feet away so I don’t hurt my neck or, alternately, stand on a chair. Chris isn’t as bad, but I still only come up to her collarbone.
However, just because I’m short doesn’t mean I’m not awesome. Apparently, I have a bit of a reputation for being a badass at the homeschooling group my family and I attend. For example, once, one of the older kids was making fun of me for having a massive crush on Michael (I’m mostly over it. I went on a date with him a while ago, there was a huge amount of awkwardness ad misunderstanding, we didn’t talk for months, and when we started talking again we agreed to just stay friends.) so I asked him politely to stop, and, when he didn’t, I punched him. For reference, he was a seventeen year old boy with six inches on me, and I was tiny and twelve. However, he played it up like I seriously hurt him and eventually the story morphed into a rumor that I’d knocked him out. Come on, I mean, I barely tapped him. It’s possible it bruised, but I’ve hit my sister harder than that without bruising her. He’s just a wimp.
Another time, Michael’s brother Matthew, who’s obsessed with this game called Assassin, (It’s like tag but everyone’s it and the back is the only thing you’re allowed to hit. Winner is the last one standing.) came up behind me and slapped me on the back and I didn’t see him coming so I flipped out and judo-flipped him over my shoulder and onto the ground. I have no idea how. I doubt I could replicate it. It was really awesome though, even Matthew laughed when he got his breath back and said it was awesome.
I’m also a speedy little thing. I used to be able to out-sprint nearly everyone, except for Jonathan who is basically Superman, even though I was only like 4’10 at that point, but then people got longer legs and mine stayed short and I got out of shape and so now I can’t outrun anyone anymore.
So, to all my short readers: You rock. And are probably an oldest sibling, am I right?