My mother was five foot one.
Looking back, I can only imagine how much trouble that must have caused for her as she chased my brothers and I around the house, trying to keep us corralled and, by the time we were twelve, shorter than every last one of us.
We were a hyperactive brood, and she was a tiny, tiny woman. It’s shocking that she managed to raise us at all, if you think about it.
But there she was, day after day, week after week, doing the things a mother must do, working harder than anyone out to have to, carrying the weight of the family on her shoulders and never complaining.
She inspired me in a lot of ways, she was an inspirational figure, but most of all I think it was this, her work ethic, the way she never gave up and never gave in, that I took from my childhood and went forward into my life with.
It was the dedication with which she applied herself to the task at hand that I now most seek, in my life as an adult, to emulate.
And that’s why, in every job I take, I make sure to do the mini-Mum amount of work possible.