That explains it. You obviously quit growing at eight years old.
For those interested, I'd like to tell the story of the first time I met Paul Brunner. In 1972 I was driving in downtown Missoula, Montana. As I pulled up to a traffic light, I looked out the side window at a foxy chick in a tank top. I thought I was stopped but I rolled ahead, hitting the bumper of the car in front of me. The door opened up and out jumped a dwarf. The little guy waddled back as I rolled down my window. He yelled at me, "I AM NOT HAPPY..."
I politely said, "Well, which one are you then?"
And the Eighth Dwarf was born that day....