Saturday, January 28, 2006

You need a REAL WOMAN in your life?

Well then don't look here.
Look here: http://www.myspace.com/witchbabywiggbat
This is my daughter, the Goonybirds mom; the Stainless Steel Amazon.
Yeah, she reads this, but after all, I had to put up with her butt while she went though the vilest puberty on record so I have a God-given RIGHT to embarrass her.
There are some things you just have to bite your lip and overlook when you are a parent. Teenagers in particular. They shoplift cigarettes. They sneak out the window at night. They bring a person home who is so wildly innapropriate that at first glance you know, know how ugly its going to turn out, and all you can do is try to be friendly and hope they don't steal anything.
Or they get a really really really bad tattoo.
I bought the kid a tattoo for her graduation present. And why not? Her father has two full sleeves and a quarter piece on his chest. I have two on my left arm. So fine. She swore she had found this guy who was really good and so off I went to meet her there and pay the bastard. I get there in mid-session, and there is my daughter, my beautiful daughter, sitting on a grubby, sticky old dentists chair with this mook drilling on her back and he was BAD.
BAD, BAD, BAD. Oh my God he was BAD. I have seen better tattoos done with a sewing needle and soot.
This dipweasel is putting this horrible thing on my daughter and all I can do is stand there and make pleasant conversation because she is watching me very closely indeed. I DARE ya to have a cow, mom. I DARE ya to.
And so standing there a horrible sinking feeling came over me. There simply comes a time when you realize your children are the product of the way you raised them. Like it or not, you have to take responsibility for the fact that you may have made some mistakes along the way. You have to shut up, suck it up and let your daughter walk around with a moonpizza on her back. A big moonpizza with an antler-fairy-boobygirl thing sitting in it.
In BLACKWORK.
Oh Jesus, the horror.
We now move foreward in time several years. She has secured a plum job right out of college with (big plane builder) as an engineer. Unfortunately she is still being followed everywhere she goes by this pizzaboob thing on her back, and as the years have gone by it has begun to blur badly. Now it not only looks crude, it looks sinister too. It is beginning to make long distance calls and charge them to her account. It forges her name on checks. Most importantly, it has long outlived its intended impact. She realized this. She was a bill paying, baby packing adult now, and a professional to boot. So what did my girl do?
Did she find a plastic surgeon and have it lasered?
Did she undergo surgical dermabrasion?
NO. my dearest daughter sucked it up, saved up her nickles, found another artist and had it completely obliterated with a larger piece.
And IT LOOKS GLORIOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*sniff* I'm so proud!

6 comments:

  1. OMG YOUR DAUGHTER ROCKS! She has now given me a role model for later life.

    PS: Do tatoos hurt? I can't get a straight answer from the people I ask.

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  2. Yo! Noshit!
    1. Time for you to update YOUR blog, sunny jim. Get crackin!
    2 Tattoos only hurt depending on where you get them, or the total time spent in one session. Neither of mine hurt at all-it just felt a little warm, with a couple of pinpokes. My husband claims the only time his hurt was when he had the crook of his arm colored in. They do burn afterwards, like a medium sunburn sensation.
    My work in international youth corruption is now complete. Go forth and get ink!

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