You’re probably all yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever about the damn fishing already, who got inked?
Surprisingly, none of you thought T, who already has two tattoos was the one; but you were correct. Though she has been thinking about adding to her ‘tramp stamp’, she didn’t. A couple of you thought it was my BFF, but it wasn’t her either. I think her husband might divorce her if she did. Before anyone gets their knickers in a bunch with “but it’s her body” or “what’s the big deal?” you should know that he’s a terrific guy. He’s definitely one that I would call a ‘keeper’, so if he’s not into or possibly turned off by tattoos, it’s his prerogative and I respect him for it.
So it comes down to me and my daughter. Who was it?
I could tease you now and just end this post with:
…to be continued.
But I won’t. It’s a fact that my daughter has wanted a tattoo for awhile; she actually wants more than one. She’s got something planned for her upper back but it’s on hold until she has a drawing to bring in of exactly what she has in mind. Until then she was getting something behind her ear.
Behold. Here is my daughter’s first tattoo.
Now, (not in an annoying Lindsay Wagner Sleep Number voice, but more a Billy Mays’) don’t just
When my daughter and I talked on the phone before leaving for the weekend she asked me if I’d get one with her. She teased that it would be a great mother/daughter bonding experience. I laughed her off and told her I would never get a tattoo unless it was something I could live with forever. My husband, upon overhearing this conversation, questioned if I was serious.
Fast forward to Saturday evening, after the visit to Gary’s Professional Tattooing Studio, Inc.. I was stuck ‘fishing’ on the boat and after playing the role of ‘cooler bitch’ and taking umpteen photos, I was bored. I called my better half and relayed that our daughter did indeed get her tattoo; and before I could say anything else my gal pals yelled out about how I had gone first. He laughed and replied that I would have chickened out. I relayed his response to them and they egged him on.
“She went first!”
“She got a tattoo on her foot!”
“It looks awesome!”
He, again, laughed it off and said he’d see me the next day.
Fast forward to the next day.
Him: (after an half an hour) “So, where’s your tattoo?”
Me: “Right here” (Showing him my right ankle.)
Him: “That’s not real. That’s a temporary tattoo.”
Me: “Uhm, okay, but don’t touch it.”
Him: (Upon closer examination) “Is that real?”
Him: “Why did you get a tattoo?”
Me: “Why not?”
It was a mother/daughter/Gary experience.
Will my daughter get another one? Probably. Will I? I don’t know, but I did grab a marketing thingy before I left. It was a packaged condom with a logo that said “Please Cum Again”. I’d show you a picture of it but my camera is acting up and I don’t know how to fix it and my photographer husband is out of town and not answering his cell phone.