Most moms wouldn't take their 18 year old sons to get a tattoo but then I'm NOT like most moms. While we are by no means "white trash", I like to refer to us as "white clutter".
Anyhow getting back to the topic at hand:
Ever since my stepson was a young boy, he told me that when he turned 18, he wanted to get a tattoo.
Rather than have him venture to some seedy tattoo shop with questionable hygiene practices, I brought him to an upscale tattoo shop to get his tattoo, Daly City Tattoo in Daly City, California. He had an initial consultation with the shop's owner, Jason and last night, Philip got his tattoo
I urged my son to research a design and because I believe that tattoos are symbolic of one's life, I "helped" him to decide that a baseball would be the best choice.
Philip's been an avid lover of baseball since his little chubby fingers could get a firm grip around a baseball. He's played in Little League, Bronco's, the Local Joe D League and plays on his high school's varsity team. I'm hoping I can retire when he hits the Big League!
I love the way his tattoo turned out although it's substantially larger than I had envisioned. I must say that when he got into the chair, things got a little dicey. He began to sweat profusely, turned a scary shade of green and the tattooist declared a brief break. We brought him outside, gave him some juice and a piece of chocolate and the kid was like brand new!
After his 2-hour session was over, my son proudly proclaimed that he was ready for the NEXT tattoo. Visions of lifewreckers (neck tattoos) popped in to my head. Oh. Hell.To.The.No! What madness have I unleashed? Actually, the cost of his tattoo should be enough of a deterrent for a while.....