i have tattoos. i know no big whoop, right?! who doesn’t have a tattoo? well, stubby hubs hunk, that’s who. his take is that it’s far more antiestablishment to have no ink in this day and age than to have sleeves. grannies are getting tattoos now. it’s no longer the long haired, greasy, trouble making bikers that are covered with them. my kid’s teacher has sleeves. although, he has to keep his class room right around freezing because he’s not allowed to flash the ink at school and has to wear a long sleeve shirt no matter the temperature outside. and of course i know, as the chair of a non-profit organization, i can’t go to an event for major donors with my freak flag flying. i have to wear a long sleeved shirt and can’t do the wave for fear that they will see my pit stains.
back to stubby hubs hunk. never mind that i came to him an inked canvas, he doesn’t like tattoos. he says he likes my skin…plain. and of course because i am a a good wife who has vowed to honor and obey him, i do what ever the hell i want. when we were first married we would barter. he could get a motorcycle if i could get half sleeves. he could upgrade that motorcycle if i could get full sleeves. i did sign a contract that clearly defined the “no ink zone”. that is my torso to my thighs. um, yes dear i know don’t tattoo my boobs, belly, or butt. agreed!
WELL…dushie ( Wink at Me)and i decided to get tattoos together. luckily, because she’s smarter than i am, it didn’t happen the night that we were in NYC and i had had 75 bottles of hard cider. instead we came home and made appointments with my guy stuart (http://www.transcendingflesh.com/tattoo-artists/stuart/stuart.htm). we both love peonies so i decided to cover the BAD lizard that was my second tattoo on my hip with one and dushie is getting a bunch of stuff with a peony in the mix.
the day of my appointment comes and we realize that in order to cover the bad one the new one had to be a bit bigger than i had first thought. that’s when i got the first pang. he starts the work and i feel the needle go well down my leg, pang number two. so i come up with this great plan. i’ll distract stubby hubs hunk with my bedroom eyes and when he sees it, he will be so mesmerized that i will be golden.
REALITY: he’s stacking firewood outside. i’m yelling through the upstairs window to him
me: hey the baby’s coming today. they just check better half into the hospital and are gonna do the c-section today. (my attempt to soften the blow)
stubs: oh wow
me: so, remember how i was talking at the beginning of the summer that i was gonna cover the tattoo on my hip?
me: oh yeah, i told you. well i had it done a couple of days ago. i’m hoping you’re not going to be mad. it’s a little bigger than i thought it was going to be.
stubs: oh? why wouldn’t you tell me?
me: are you mad?
stubs: no (yes!!!!) i guess if it’s where you already had one it’s no big deal.
oh crap! i’m in deep doo doo! stubby hubs hunk doesn’t get mad…often, but when he does it’s, um, scary. i’ve disappointed him. i can tell. i go downstairs and outside. he won’t look at me. i’m doing that thing where i dance around and show him how very cute i am.
please don’t be mad please don’t be mad please don’t be mad
stubs: ok let’s see it. what the…it looks like a big bruise.
me: oh, thanks.
stubs: so dushie has a peony too? that’s silly.
me: (inside my head) you think that’s silly, at least i didn’t get dushie tattooed some where around it….like i was going to.