Dwarf Fear

Writing about Frankie yesterday reminded me of the abiding fears that parents have for their children. I haven’t conjured up any fears over Stan yet, but I’m already getting anxious about Mila and boys. Having now bought two swords from eBay, I’m sure that I’ll greet any boyfriends by sharpening my sidearm on a whetstone and threatening them with it when she’s out of the room.

My biggest fear for Frankie used to be that he’d turn out to be a dwarf (or midget, but I’m not getting into that debate here). He went through a number of years of being somewhat under-sized for his age – fitting t-shirts for 3 year olds when he was 5 and the like. He’s shot up a bit recently, which has eased my worries. However, I’ve recently started thinking – well, would it be so bad if he turned out to be a dwarf?

Let’s face it – he’d always have a career in show-biz to look forward to. I’ve never seen a dwarf at a Job Centre and I’m convinced that’s because they’re all still living off the money they made being Ewoks in the Return of the Jedi or down Shepperton Studios being made up as gnomes for the latest Harry Potter epic.

I’m pretty sure that, with his winning personality, Frankie could even be up there amongst the dwarf megastars like Wee Man from Jackass.

Ahh, a father can dream…

Wee man on the pull