(Almost) Wordless Wednesday: Tiny Written Permission

It's Wednesday, and we're all tired. OK, maybe it's just me. But they, the mythical "they," invented Wordless Wednesday for a reason, and that's because us incessant talkers/typers need a break in the middle of a week.

And so I give you some classic WP moments in time, with minimal wordage because, let's face it, I can never ACTUALLY shut up completely.

Fishin' with the Grandparents, circa 1980

See how happy we all look? That's because we hadn't left yet. My grandpa is a serious fisherman, and when my three-year-old squirmy self got bored and started throwing rocks at the fish, he was NOT amused. On the other hand, look at his wicked '70s 'stache! So awesome. Also awesome: My tiny, ridiculously-spazzy golf pants. Rock-throwing-scoldings aside, this is a great memory.

Tiny Shannon Reads the Classics, circa approx. 1978

Number one: Why do I look like a tiny Latino boy?

Number two: Is it just me, or does the ceramic jug/chimney-sweep-broom combo make it look as though we were living in coal mining country? (We were in suburban Ohio.)

And number three: My mom still has that tiny rocking chair for my niece to use when she visits Nana and Papa. The ciiirrrrcle of liiiiiiiiiife!

Happy Wednesday, friends.