Baby of my Grade

The first thing most people notice about me is my red hair.

The second is my size.

It was quite noticeable standing next to my classmates in grade school

And being an entire foot shorter than them.

The teasing was sure to follow

About my height and baby face.

By junior high, I was asked, “How’s the weather down there?”

And, “Would you like a kid’s menu?”

It was the beginning of an age where girls grew pretty

And boys grew two feet taller.

There, I remained unchanged.

I called myself the baby of my grade.

I considered myself a statue, unable to change.

But in high school, I got asked about my age.

Suddenly, I was handed adult menus

And even told I look like my little sister’s mom.

When did this happen?

Just yesterday I was the baby of my grade.

My eyes have deceived me

Because after all these years

My statue state was in fact changing,

It was just hard for me to see.

To see myself grow up,

And not be the baby of my grade.