# 5 - Every tat has a story

The Top 10 Funniest/Best Memories of My 50 years...

# 5 Every tat has a story...

I'm old enough to remember when tattoos were only seen on old sailors.  Does anybody else remember those days?  When I was little, tattoos weren't really thought of as body art but more like drunken sailor mistakes.  Or am I just repeating what my father thought?  Hmmm...

Anyway somewhere long about the 80's - the decade when I was having babies - tattoos became main stream hip - body art, something the cool kids all had.  I'm not a cool kid.  This isn't a post about my secret trip to Iron Age late one night to get some ink that noone has ever seen.

A good friend once said that tattoos are guaranteed until 6 months after death.  And have I mentioned that I'm almost 50?  I have images of tattoos on sagging skin when I'm being wiped down by the employees of whatever nursing home my children choose for me.  All of those things are part of why getting ink is not one of the things on my bucket list.  I'm not actually anti-tattoo, you understand.  I just don't feel the need to be a cool kid with a tat.

No, this post is really more about the fact that every tat has a story.  The story may be good - like my son's tattoo, intentionally chosen as a symbol of his faith - his ancient faith - boldly displayed on his forearm for all to see.  The story may be bad - like when people ink a person's name but it's spelled wrong or that person then leaves them by choice.  I don't remember knowing anyone personally with that particular story, but we all know that there are multiple websites devoted to ugly and bad tattoos, so those stories are numerous and I cannot add anything to them.

But I can tell you my two favorite tattoo stories.  Anyone who knows me well can stop reading now, cause they've heard me repeat these stories multiple times - like old people are often accused of doing.  But they are at least short!

The first one came from a couple of good friends.  Their daughter had a rose tattooed on her upper breast when she was in her 20's.  You know - that glorious time in a woman's life when things are firm and perky and gravity is only a subject for science class.  While I've never seen this tattoo, my friends tell me that as time has moved on, the rose has changed somewhat...becoming more of a long-stemmed rose. 

I just love that story!

The other one is closer to home.  Here is a pic of this tattoo on my daughter.  S has 3 others, and they each have a story for her, but it's only this one that is one of my two favorite tattoo stories.

It is an African symbol for faith and grace.  It has an official name, but I can't ever remember it.  Let's just call it Abungu.  It's a good solid African name!  Anyway when S got this tattoo, it was at a time when she was a nanny for an adorable two-year old boy that we'll call Jake.  Jake loved S, and S loved Jake.  I still miss Jake stories.  When she showed up at his house the next day he saw her new tattoo and immediately said "Chwistmas twee!"  S did her best to correct him and tell him that it was Abungu, but he didn't believe her.  Can you imagine?  When his mama came home, he enjoyed telling his mommy about "S's Chwistmas twee on S!"  I just love that!  Two-year olds are awesome!!! 

What's your tattoo story?  I enjoy collecting stories.  Who knows, maybe your tat story will become one of my new two favorite tat stories!  Happy tatting!!!