TRQ and the tattoo

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."

I'd like to show you a picture

But no one is home to help me upload the image. So yeah. I'm lame.

Anyhoo! Here's a description. Me. In front of a place called "The Precious Slut Tattoo Parlor" in Vegas. (I was only in town mere moments, Donna, otherwise I would have called you!) It was next to a Cuban cafe where my brother took me to eat pork, rice and black beans. He snapped my picture with his iPhone and sent it to my phone. I then proceeded to send it to all my kids just to scare 'em.

Dude. Brothers do not come any better than that. Thanks for the good times, Jimmy!