Always keep a book with you in case of an emergency. Last summer I was vacationing in the Outer Banks with my 18-year-old son, Rob, my older son’s fiance, Bec, and a friend of ours, Jen. My friend decided that she wanted to have her nose pierced. She began to look for a tattoo parlor and finally found a place near the beach house. As we drove out into the middle of nowhere, Rob began to think that he needed a tattoo, also. As the mother of two sons, you learn to choose your battles carefully, so I told him that it was his decision. However, inside I was screaming, “NO!! Anything you tattoo now will sag when you get to be my age!!!”
We drove down the island with my son trying to decide what tattoo he would get, and we finally arrived at a tattoo parlor that was in a home! I pulled into the parking lot beside the collection of motorcycles, convinced that now my friend would change her mind when she saw the house. However, to my dread she jumped out of the car with an expression of sheer delight on her face and began to walk quickly into the house with the rest of us racing behind her.