So little Jack and I walk in the funeral parlor yesterday with our supply of baked goods (courtesy of Atheist-Friend) and toys (courtesy of my Goodwill stash). I can't help but notice a heavily-tattooed woman wearing a flimsy one-strap tank top strategically positioned to show off her collection of unicorn, tiger, and warrior tattoos. I'm a little surprised. This is not the typical mourning attire one is accustomed to seeing on the southside of Chicago.
Jack (noticing my double-take): Mom?
Me: Yeah, Jack?
Jack (whispering conspiratorially): I think her pictures are still drying.
Do tattoos need time to dry? I walked by her again later and started re-thinking my plan to get a shamrock tattoo with my kids' names on my 40th birthday. A whole new world of inspiration was right there in front of me.
I've now decided upon warrior princess riding an elephant. I mean, why not?