This weekend, my dear friend Trish took her 16 year old son Zach to get a tattoo. For the coolest reason ever. So I asked if I could take a picture and show you. (The tattoo runs much of the length of the inside of his forearm.)

Zach’s diabetic. This will serve as his “medic alert” — and as so much more.

It was one of the first times I “got” the whole tattoo thing. I also have a dear friend who had his daughters draw self-portraits when they turned 5; he now wears them as tattoos.

I wish I’d thought of that. Well, sort of. Typically, I’m not a tattoo girl. Um, pain. And I’m not good at commiting to accessories. But I have to say that when I saw Trish’s latest, I was tempted.

Damn you, Trish. You always make everything look so good. If I ever get one, you’re coming with. And as you know, it won’t be a pretty picture  (pardon the pun) with me in the tattoo chair….