High chairs drive me nuts. They are for children. They are not for adults. How did this get confused?
I can tell you that the confusion does not lie with short-legged people. I have nothing against people with long legs, but they are going to have to give the SLP’s (short-legged people) a break in some things. Especially the old SLP’s.
After 62 years of practically running to keep up with the long legs, I can tell you that being an SLP is hard work.
In our defense, I would like to say that an SLP’s legs do what the good Lord made them to do: they reach the ground.
So now we come to the high chair with their high table. I think the first one I ever saw was in Taco Bell. Kids love ‘em. Next time you’re in a place with high chairs and tables, watch the kids. They are attracted to them like ants to a Popsicle stick. It’s fascinating to watch.
Fortunately, my kids were adults by the time the high chairs and tables made their appearance, therefore I didn’t have to bodily force them off the high chairs so that we could sit at a normal table and their mother’s feet would at least be on the floor.
It’s a little known fact that my feet don’t even reach to the handy-dandy bar placed between two legs of the chair for someone to prop their feet on. I am left hanging, so to speak, so that when I do hit the linoleum, my feet have gone to sleep and the rest of me is in very real danger of congregating with them on the floor.
There’s always someone who says, “Are you all right?” as I stagger like Dean Martin toward the door. “Sure,” I say, “just a little tingle in my feet.”
Actually, that’s a lie. There are no tingles because my feet are completely numb.
And all this just to sit up high? I don’t get it.
And I’m not going to get it. I’ve decided to stick with tables and chairs that are the proper height. I don’t want to be the evening’s entertainment as everyone watches this old SLP try to climb on and then fall off her chair.
Beg as loud as you can for good common sense.