Actually, I'm not allowed a tattoo. Or any piercing. Or any weird colored hair. At school pickup the other day the girls saw a mom (or babysitter or older sibling, who knows?) with green hair. I opined that I would look totally AWESOME with green hair, to screaming disapproval from the girls. I then suggested I'd get my nose pierced and a tattoo to more screaming disapproval. Zoe suggested the only tattoo I could get was one that said "Don't Get a Tattoo," to much ensuing hilarity. I then suggested I'd wear such sartorial wonders as mini-skirts, fishnet stockings and combat boots, which met more disapproval. That led me to say I'd remember all of this when they were teenagers. Both girls stated with much certainty that they would NEVER want any of those things, which made me want to say, "Speak into the recorder, please!"
All this to introduce an adoptive mom who did get a tattoo:
SOME tattoos represent the epitome of coolness for me. Big emphasis on SOME. Because if you have ITALIAN STALLION emblazoned across your chest, and STALLION is spelled wrong, that’s not cool. Also – butterfly wings down there adjacent to your pockanoose, a Confederate flag on your chest, the phrase INSERT COINS IN SLOT above your butt crack, and eyeballs tattooed on your eyelids – all NOT COOL, dude.Go see what she got! The last paragraph makes me cry just like Love You Forever does.
But I like a little permanent ink that represents something. Soccer star David Beckham has Mandarin Chinese characters running down his side that translate to: Death and life have determined appointments, Riches and honors depends upon heaven. Heavy swoon factor there. My trainer, Son of Sam, has lots of tattoos, and he has a story for every one. I even sort of like Mike Tyson’s Maori tribal ink on his face.
But I’ve never gotten a tattoo, partly because I didn’t know what to get and partly because Hot Firefighter Husband was opposed, and he asks so little of me that I thought I’d honor this small request. I mean, the guy doesn’t complain when I stop shaving my legs and abstain from daily showers. It seemed the least I could do.
Still, I always thought about it, and decided that my pipe-dream tattoo would be something written in Vietnamese, to honor my oldest daughter, born in Vietnam, and in Spanish, for my younger two children, who were born in Guatemala.
AND THEN! For my birthday in December, Husband gave me a gift certificate FOR A TATTOO! Because he totally dug my idea! And I was all, OH SHIT, now I totally have to go through with this thing.