And the story continues.
Apparently after I forwarded my kids the picture of me standing in front of the tattoo parlor, my third son called my dad and told him---hahahahahahahaha--that his mom just had some ink done. By then my brother was at a lacrosse game with my parents who'd made the drive down from St. George to watch a couple of their grandsons play. Apparently my dad thought it would be fun to share the joke with TRQ.
Dad: Yo. Our middle-aged daughter just got a tattoo.
Only TRQ didn't laugh. She went white. She turned to my brother, panic-stricken, and said, "Really? She did that? At the Precious S?"
And my awesome brother went, "Yes. She has a tattoo of everyone's initials now. Except for Quinton's. By the time they got to the "Q," she ran out of arm."
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4 comments:
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Fifth on the charts and number five in your heart! (And nowhere to be found on your arm, apparently.)
Laugh out loud. (Right now I am trying not to write "haha" but I also tend to refrain from "LOL." How do I properly show that I am laughing [because I am]?)
I'll laugh about the rest of it later. Right now I just can't get past "The Precious Slut." I want that on my headstone!
I was hoping your tattoo just said "The Precious Slut."
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