I describe myself as being a ‘bit of a short-arse, with a shorter attention span.’ So, I’d say if I was to change just one thing about myself, then perhaps another couple of inches wouldn’t go amiss … ooh err, missus!

I’m not really conscious of my having any hang-ups about being shorter-than-average. That said, I do have a psychotherapist friend who contends I rock a mohawk hairstyle in a somewhat vain attempt to give an impression of added height.

Being on the small side (five feet, four inches) can work both ways, to be fair. For instance, right up until my early twenties, I was able to blag myself onto the local buses, paying only a child’s fare. Similarly, at football matches, I’d enter via the children’s gate, paying only half-admission. Of course, once standing on the packed terrace, I’d only see half the match and would return home with my calf muscles aching from stretching up on my tiptoes for ninety minutes.

Another slight downside was having to carry my passport with me until I was about twenty-five years old – there wasn’t a bar in Glasgow that’d serve me a beer without my proving my age. (That’s not strictly true … there were several I knew where I could get a drink while being only sixteen, but you know – ‘mum’s the word’ and all that.)

One of my (repeatable) nicknames is ‘Beaky.’ Maybe instead of growing a couple of inches, I could lose a couple from my nose? Some pals rather unkindly say I have a Roman nose … one that roams all over my face. But I don’t mind it that much. I’m not too picky, you know? And anyway, shave off a couple of inches and how would I stop my glasses from slipping down and off the end of my chin?

When I think on it though, I’m not even that sure I’d want to grow taller. Right now, as they say, I’m about the height of nonsense, and I rather like it that way.

It’s nice down here anyway – I have my own micro-climate and all.

I’ve survived sixty-five years of the leg-pulling – I’m sure I’ll cope with another thirty-five. I’m 100% comfortable in my own skin – some may argue I’m a cocky wee b******, and I know that despite being lucky enough to have so many really good friends, there are others who can’t stand me.

Bothered?

Their loss.

You know what? I’m for changing nothing at all!

I love me … who do you love?
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