Taken February 9, 2008 with Canon PowerShot A550
She swore she wouldn’t. Pinky-swore,even.
It looks like hell, doesn’t it? I told her it looked like it was infected already, and she said, “Yeah, but only a little infected.”
She’s been after me for over two years to let her do this. I told her we would “research” it – you know, ask around, get some advice, and make some phone calls. Every “professional-type” person we’ve talked to has said the same thing: Don’t. Do this. Yourself.
She agreed with everybody that told her that an infection of your nose would not be a nice experience, that getting it done professionally (with her mother’s permission) was the smarter move. We even looked at nasty, infected, gangrene-y pictures of nasty, infected, gangrene-y noses. My stomach is still flip-flopping.
Around here, you can only get a “professional” nose-piercing at a tattoo parlour. So, of course, at the end of all the “research”, she decided she’d rather have a tattoo. A very small tattoo. On her shoulder blade. Of a music note. Relieved and Happy Mommy said she would allow such a thing (done by a real tattoo artist in a real tattoo parlour with her real mother – ummm… yes, Me – present), if she could wait for her birthday next summer, and promised not to pierce her nose in the meantime. Problem solved.
Ha. Her nose will probably fall off, now.
Guess who ain’t gettin’ a tattoo for her birthday?
Random Song for the Day: “Shaketramp” – Mariana’s Trench
The Les Becker Bookshop.