Remember back in college when you sat around with all the other silly girls in your dorm listing your non-negotiables in the man that you’ll someday marry? Yeah, me either. Clearly I wouldn’t do something so silly…

Shut up Sugar Muffin…

Okay, so I might have had the conversation once or twice and I might have had a list that’s as long as the list of my neuroses. It’s possible.

As I grew and developed as a person, though, the list of neuroses didn’t shrink but the list of criteria did. By the time I met The Boy, the list had barely five items on it. Of course he met each and every one of them… except for one. He was younger than me which would normally be a complete deal breaker. Damn, I was smitten with him.

The criterion that gained the most popularity among my friends, though, was The Six Inch Rule. It might seem shallow, it might seem ridiculous, heck, it might even seem like I’m asking a lot, but this one was important to me.

Even as a non-dating Christian college student I knew that some things were just required to make me feel a certain way… you know, how you want to feel when you’re with someone big and strong and all that jazz.

Even when the “he must be left handed” and “he has to like opera” fell by the wayside, the six inch rule remained fully in place. Nowadays every time I start dating someone and/or crushing on them, the first thing one of my friends asks is if he meets the six inch rule. It’s THAT important.

I mean, not all of my friends agree on the importance of the rule. Schnookums once told me that she thought it was ridiculous. “What, are you going to get out a measuring tape?” She asked me. No. Probably not. Maybe. I don’t know.

So, I know you all must be wondering if a certain someone meets the six inch rule…

No, he doesn’t, I think he’s only about five inches taller than me.

Wait, what did you think I was talking about?


Really though, despite my ability to twist any benign phrase into something dirty, it never actually occurred to me that “The Six Inch Rule” sounded like anything other than what it is; “he must be at least six inches taller than me.” How is it even possible that I could be so naïve? This is me we’re talking about…

So, about a week ago when my favorite co-worker/gossip buddy and I were discussing various boys and I made the offhanded comment about one not meeting the six inch rule, you can imagine how other coworkers around us looked at me.

They literally stopped what they were doing, turned, and gaped.

I had no clue.

I just couldn’t figure it out.

Gossip Buddy finally had to explain it to me.

OMG. WFT. Holy Shit.

I tried to think back to how many people I had mentioned the six inch rule in front of without realizing how it sounded. I had no idea.

I just really like tall guys.


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