Matt tried to act comfortable as he came down the stairs for breakfast. It was clear that mom had already left for the morning, but to Matt's chagrin, Dad was at
the kitchen table reading the paper. "Morning Matt," dad said.
"Hi dad," Matt opened the cupboard to find a cereal bowl. He found he had to get up on tip toes to reach the bowl he wanted. Those missing inches were starting
to be a hassle already.
"Going to join me for a little breakfast?" dad asked, as much rhetorically as anything, and continued to read the paper. Matt thought he heard some stress on the
word 'little', but chuckled to himself at his paranoia. Matt nodded as he sat down and poured the cereal.
"So, a big day at school ahead of you, son?" dad continued, folding the paper to look right at Matt as he said the word 'big'. Matt was starting to get
uncomfortable, and just shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant.
"I mean, you're going to have one of those Short days." There was no mistaking it. Dad had defintely stressed the word 'short'. Matt's heart started to pound.
"I'm not sure I follow you," Matt said, and then wished he had tried changing the subject instead.
"Well, with all those missing inches," dad began, setting the paper down, "I would think you'd have size on the brain." Matt froze. The wish hadn't worked on dad
at all!