My kids have picked their tattoos

My kids have picked their tattoos
6 September 2014

I have a suspicion that some of my kids are going to end up being rather colourful. 

Though Luke has already expressed the wish, that his tattoos have no colour at all…

And he should know.  He’s planned them already.  The Lombard family crest – all of the boys in the family have them.  Dotted cut lines, sort of like those I would imagine they use in surgery???  And a bit of tribal Mauri-type art.  All black.  And most likely a copy of my brother’s tat as well, which simply says, “Est 1977”.  So I’m surmising that Luke’s will be, “Est 1998”.  Kinda cute.

Amber insists that one set of holes for her ears are not enough, and so she’d like a second.  But I’ve been boring and have said “no”.  She’s still little.  One set is fine for now.  And once she’s a bit older and wiser, she can make the decision for herself, when she’s eighteen. 

Then there’s the inevitable talk of belly rings and nose piercings.  Though I wonder if any of this will ever materialise.  Talk is cheap, and freaking out your mom is such awesome fun.

And then I saw this pic, which said, “My daughter has asked for a nose ring, so I got her one”.  With a pic of a ring with a pendant on it, shaped like a nose.  Very, very funny.

If I could find one exactly like that for Amber, I would buy it for her.

The only tattoo I would ever contemplate having is a moustache on my finger, so that I could raise it to my lips.  Would look way awesome!

When I was little, tattoos were reserved for salty sailors, convicts and dodgy characters.  Undesirables. 

But times have sure changed.  Most people have been inked now.  Loads or people, more than once.  I believe it becomes like an addiction. 

It can look super stylish and really cool.  And if the tattoo has special significance to you, it is really special.

Long gone are the days of sailor-types, with ugly fuzzy tattoos of anchors on their biceps.  Or “Mom” in a heart, with an arrow.

Nowadays it is trendy and hip.  Almost a rite of passage.  A requirement for street cred.

One has to wonder how many people live to regret their inking, and how many remain to love it forever. 

Hence I think it is important to be a bit of a grown up at least, before you choose.  Lest you have “I love Mary”, stuck on your arm, when you’ve subsequently decided you much rather prefer Bob.

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