In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Tattoo….You?.”
my first was on my right shoulder. I waited 13 years to get it. Why wait so long? Well, the tataoo is commerative of my son and after13 years I felt safe in believing that would be my only child. I didn’t want my body to be an inked roll call of my children and their birthdates as to not forget, like I have seen on a few old friends.
Perhaps, I should have waited til I was well into my 60’s or perhaps 70’s, cause I know have 6 kids in total, plan on fostering & adopting others and only one savored & etched into my skin til I become a pile of dust.
People are largely surprised that I have a tatoo at all and most don’t see but a small corner of it or from a distance, so when they ask me what it says, I tell them it says, Biker bitch, just to see the look on their face and for a guarenteed laugh.
If someone happens to glimps the one on my hip, I tell them it says, “Your ass is mine”, which really puzzles them. Truth is its an instument with an inscription for which I am deeply regrettful for but still tells the story in code of the stupid behind that one.
If I should ever find my Tatoo Artist again, I will have roses cover the inscription, as though it never was. Forever apparently has an epiration date. lol!