Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Tattoos of Grace Part I

Ron and I sat on the sofa and talked, warm fingers of sun oozing through the curtains. I turned to face him. I like eye contact, especially with my son. Were those navy blue robot feet stepping out just below the hem of his shirt sleeve?
I worked to keep my voice calm; lowered it two notches. "Son, is that a tatoo?"
He lifted his sleeve to unveil the splendid artwork. There stood a smiling robot sporting a necktie, a pen peeking over the top of his shirt pocket. One of Ron's happiest creations, drawn several years earlier when he was a carefree high school student.

But now it was on his upper arm. Forever.

"When did you get this done?"

He smiled, so patient and calm. "About six months ago."

I sighed. "I hate to even ask you how much it cost."

"A hundred dollars."

I felt my heart flatten. "Oh, son. I just hope it doesn't ruin your chances of finding a good job."
Ron (left) with his co-workers
Again his patient smile. He didn't even have to work at keeping his voice even. "I thought long and hard about this, Mom, and I feel I can live with Robot Executive as a permanent part of my body. I'm really not worried about job interviews. I'm an animator, after all."

I had to agree, even though I hated the idea of marking up his lovely skin with a needle and ink. This was my baby boy. Well, he had been twenty-some years before.
Come back Friday to find out about his other tattoo and what it taught me...
What is your opinion of tattoos?