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Mom & Me — A Tale of Two Tattoos
“My mom will talk me out of it for sure,” I said with confidence. “She just about flipped out when I got a second piercing in my ears.”
“It sounds like you almost want her to talk you out of it” Katie said.
I thought about that and shrugged. I certainly was indecisive about it.
I was 20-something and had already lived in Europe for several years. I was looking forward to my first visit back home where I would indulge in all the things I missed about being in the states — shopping malls (this was before the days of ubiquitous online shopping), American bookstores, my favorite chain restaurants. And I’d gotten it into my head that I might want to get a tattoo while I was back home. At the time tattoos were not that popular, especially among preppy girls like me.
I waffled daily about whether or not this was something I wanted to do. It was permanent after all and I didn’t want to regret it later.
I decided I would toss the idea out in the next phone conversation with my mother before the trip rather than shock her with it in person. I fully expected her to rant on about the dangers and how nice girls didn’t do such things. I expected her to put an end to the discussion with the ominous warning that I would regret such an irreversible action.
