I have always been a very open-minded and lenient mom, especially to Dustyn and Valerie. This is probably why they are the belligerent, lazy, money bumming bums that they are. But I digress...
On Dustyn's 16th birthday, I took him to get his first tattoo. I had a few rules, guidelines if you will, about where he could choose to embed said tattoo, and what it could NOT consist of:
1. Nothing above the shoulders
2. Nothing below the elbows on the arms
3. No drug references
4. No names
On this same trip, I offered to pay for a tongue piercing. I also had a list of guidelines about piercings:
1. No facial piercings
2. No gauging ears
3. No telling mom if you decide to pierce your genitalia
The nice thing about him being a minor was that I had to sign for his tattoo. He decided on a tattoo of the Grim Reaper on his right bicep. Who am I to judge? I have a Power Puff Girls tramp stamp.
But this post isn't about Dustyn's first tattoo. This post is about how many of my guidelines my sweet baby boy has chosen to ignore.
I don't have a problem with his tongue piercing. I do, however, have a problem with the snake bites he decided to inflict on himself (as shown in above pic). Did you know, when you remove a facial piercing for a few days, you can actually squeeze shit out of it like a zit? Yummy!
Then he decided to gauge his earlobe. All his friends were doing it, and yes, he probably would jump off a bridge...He had it stretched to the point that he could stick his pinky finger through his earlobe, and he walked around with a chap-stick lid in it for God only knows what reason. He has sense taken out the gauge. Now, he has what resembles a cat's behind on his earlobe. Sexy.
Yesterday, Dustyn woke up and called for me to come to his room. I found him sitting on his bed, crying like a baby. He held out his arm and said,
"I don't know why I did it."
There, tattooed on the top of his forearm was the word 'Norton', his last name. The dumb ass let some random friend with a tattoo gun give him ink. I think said random friend was either very nervous or suffers from Parkinson's because it is the wiggliest thing I have ever seen. It looks like Owen took a fine-tipped Sharpie and wrote his name. And the 'O's' look like doughnuts!
"Do you think I could scrub it off with an S.O.S. pad?"
I have an idea! Why don't we try that just for shits and giggles? Seriously, Dustyn, no we can't use and S.O.S. pad to scrub it off! But, being the nice mom that I am, I will foot the bill to have the ugly-ass thing fixed. This 1 tattoo broke 2 of my guidelines: 2. Nothing below the elbows 4. No names
So, a word of advice Dustyn: The next time you HAVE TO HAVE A TATTOO, ask your super-cool momma...and maybe you won't wake up in tears.