When I get obscenely rich in a few years after unleashing my revolutionary super secret invention on an unsuspecting world, I'm going to build a big house. But by big I don't mean big like a mansion, I mean a lot of it will be larger than normal scale: big doors, high ceilings, wide spaces, etc. I'm so sick of banging my knees, shins, elbows, head, hands, and feet on everything while trying to navigate my too tiny world. I even bang my head getting in and out of my car occasionally. I need huge things: big bed, big car, big chairs, and big closets. All of my bumps and scrapes would make more sense if I was the size of some basketball player, but I'm only 6'1". Mainly I'm just a klutz, but I'm also a big galoot and big galoots need plenty of room to romp and frolic. So I dream of the day when I move into my giant house, and then I can start the search for the perfect giantess to wed. Naturally steps will be taken to prevent the production of any giant children; I don't think it's prudent for anyone to be dipping into my gene pool.