I am a tattoo virgin. I have always said that I would never get a tattoo and if I did, it would have to be something very meaningful. There has never been anything I would be willing to put on my body forever. Oh, and for sure it would be hidden if I ever did decide to get one. I know tattoos are mostly accepted and common, but honestly, I have never gotten over the stigma that they are reserved for heathens, even though I know this isn't the case at all in 2012. I know that sounds terrible, but I always say there is a fine line between art and trash when it comes to tattoos. Some are beautiful, thought out, meaningful, and some are just well....yuck.
Fast forward to now. I guess this blog will serve as warning for my parents. I have always valued their opinions probably more then the average kid. I didn't even get my belly pierced until I was 18 and got my parents PERMISSION because I didn't want them to be ashamed of me. It's funny because I was such a terrible teenager, but I did always want their acceptance. I am going to get a tattoo. It is going to be visible and it is going to honor my son. It will also be a conversation piece to open the door for autism awareness. It will not be huge and will be done at a very reputable place.
I am 30 years old. You would think the first tattoo would have happened in my younger and more rebellious phase and something I may regret later. Nope. I know I won't regret this tattoo and it will be displayed proudly for all to see. So mom and Dad, sometime in the next few weeks, I am going to need a babysitter. Hope you don't mind.