I considered getting a tattoo years ago. I wanted something subtle and relatively small, and I flirted with the idea of getting a thin ankle bracelet tattoo of some sort. From what I hear, though, getting an ankle tattoo would be rather painful because there's so little fatty tissue on my ankles (well, on most days). I'm not a fan of pain, so I never got that — or any — tattoo.

Yesterday I finally got a tattoo, and it wasn't painful at all. I've no doubt that the pain-free application was because of the loving-yet-professional manner in which the tattoo artist worked. That tattoo artist being my grandson.

Bubby's tattooing technique elicited not even the slightest wince or grimace from Gramma as he applied the cheeriest of flower tattoos upon my ankle.

Tattoo work courtesy Bubby was done as a barter deal. Once he had completed my tattoo, I returned the favor by applying tattoos to him and his brother, Mac. The designs were admittedly less cheery than my smiling flower; the "Angry Birds" tatts were selected by each boy, as were the locations for their faux flair.

Despite Mac's woebegone look in the photo above, the process was as pain-free for my grandsons as it was for me. Which supported my assertion that getting a tattoo isn't as painful as I've assumed all these years. At least not when applied by my grandson — or by a grandma.

And that is what I learned this week.

Have a wonderful weekend, everyone. May it be as painless as the process of getting tattooed — with temporary tattoos, that is.

Today's question:

What did you learn this week? (And if you have a tattoo tale or two, please share.)