tattoos

One of our morning rituals is to visit facebook. I log on and read for a bit while the girls are on their computer doing the same thing. This morning I caught a glance of their computer screen while it was zoomed in on a picture of a former soccer teammate and her new tattoo.

This young lady just turned 18 and is now apparently liberated enough to trot herself off to the local tattoo parlor and get the words 'no regrets' tattooed in Italian on her side. Yep. Really?

I just don't see the attraction to this. I remember growing up and seeing men with tattoos, usually on arms, the 'artwork' indicating which branch of the military they joined. Now everyone seems to have them, all over the place, and the artwork ranges from phrases to flowers to crosses.

The timing on this facebook post was rather ironic as at mass yesterday our priest mentioned that when asked if he has any tattoos, he replies that he has three...all on his soul. One for baptism, one for confirmation and one for holy orders. He's too afraid to get any other tattoos....not afraid of the needle, but afraid of his mother.

While the girls and I looked at this young lady's photo of her new tattoo, I reminded them that being afraid of their mother was a very good reason not to make a trip to a tattoo parlor on their 18th birthday.