Friday, February 13, 2009
Erin O'Brien, spring 1968
I am three in this pic. I was so tiny that if I didn't hold onto the edge of the vanity, I'd fall into the pot.
I no longer have to hold on in the literal sense, but I'm still grasping for dear life in the figurative sense.
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9 comments:
Well, you're a bit taller now...
...and you probably don't ride side saddle anymore.
In a big way, we're each "grasping for dear life," even the ones who might deny it. (I fully admit to the "grasping.")
But this is what life is all about -- the grasping, the forward movement, the creativity.
I've fallen into the pot, in the figurative sense.
What a cutie!
:)
That's very cute/poignant. I can recall being afraid of the flush!
I had a similar situation until I was about five.
For the record, I am now 4 ft 10 inches and my feet still dangle if I use the handicapped stall.
Thought I'd share.
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