There it was: Natalie’s little drawing, her imperfect letters, and the words “I LOVE YOU NANA.”
Permanent.
When Natalie saw it, her reaction made every second of discomfort worth it.
“NANA!” she shouted.
She grabbed my arm, although I quickly reminded her to be gentle because the tattoo was fresh.
“That’s my drawing!” she squealed.
“It certainly is.”
“You put my picture on you!”
“I told you I’d keep it forever.”
Her eyes grew huge.
“Forever forever!”
“Forever forever,” I repeated.
She looked so proud that I almost started crying again.
She even announced that she was a “real artist now” because someone had her artwork tattooed on them.
I went home feeling wonderful.
Then, Rob saw my arm.
His expression changed instantly.
“What on Earth is that?”
At first, I thought he was joking.
“The tattoo,” I replied. “I told you I was getting it.”
“You actually did it?”
“Yes. You knew I was thinking about it.”
“I didn’t think you’d actually go through with something so stupid.”
The happiness I had carried through the door disappeared.
“Excuse me?”
“Tattoos are trashy, Betty.”
“It’s our granddaughter’s drawing.”
“I don’t care what it is. You ruined your body.”
I laughed, but there was no humor in it.
