When I was your age, my grandfather bought me a ruby bracelet. It was too big for me and would slide up and down my arm. He later told me that he had asked the jeweler to make it that way. Its size was supposed to be a symbol of his love. More rubies, more love. But I could not wear it comfortably. I could not wear it at all. So here is the point of everything I have been trying to say. If I were to give a bracelet to you, now, I would measure your wrist twice.
Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close