I still hold on to this hope that I will still grow taller. Yeah, you heard me, I’m an adult (basically) and still expecting a growth spurt. I think it stems from the fact that my father, at 17, was the same height that I am now. When I was really short, shortest person in my 10th or 11th grade class, people kept telling me I might get another growth spurt, since my father went from five foot six to six feet after he graduated. So all through high school, and into college, I kept hoping against hope that I might get that growth spurt. And to this day I still think “maybe.” I mean, I know it won’t happen, not unless I get some kind of disease or something… but let me have my dreams, eh?
(actually, come to think of it, I did grow a bit between my senior year and now – when I got my license I was apparently 5 foot 4 inches and that was probably being generous. I’m 5 foot 6 now. If I had my druthers I’d be at least 5 foot 8, but the only reason I want to be any taller is because I like to be taller than other people. I kept telling all my friends who have grown taller than me to “Stop bein’ taller than me.”)
(2016 edit: I was never 5’6″. I don’t know where that came from. I’ve been 5’4″ forever.)