I've spent the week trying to explain to Malone why I have tattoos. I have two. Sometimes, because they're both so amazing I have trouble picking which one I like best. The tropical fish by my crotch is the winner though. Yes. I got a fish tattooed on my body and chose the middle of my hip flexor as the spot. It's really ugly with bubbles coming out of its mouth. I was eighteen; I went with two friends, both who had something picked out ahead of time. I got to the parlor and buckled under the pressure, what the hell was I going to pick? So I picked a fish. I think I might go and get "idiot" tattooed underneath it. Then people can stop asking me why I
The second one is a star on my foot. I'm okay with it-sometimes. Every now and then someone will say "did you pick the star because each point is a member of your family"? Shit, no. I did it on a whim on a date-completely random.
Here's my conversation with Malone about them:
Malone: why do you have that permanent mark there (pointing to the fish)?
Me: I don't know.
Malone: it's permanent that means it can't come off, right mom?
Malone: did you do that when you were a teenager or adult?
Me: teenager, it was a mistake. I wish it wasn't there.
Malone: yeah, I think it's stupid, I'm not going to get one, even when I'm a teenager.
Me: good Lones. Don't do it.
Well, it looks like I have taught Malone another valuable lesson from a mistake I made.