They came home with WHAT???

I don't even know what to say. (Words do not usually fail me, in fact, I have been speechless only twice before in my entire life - the last time being when their stepfather Jack proposed to me in 2002. That was a "good" speechless moment, this is not.)



I stand there, my speechless state continuing longer than I want it to, and am obviously dismayed. They are both smirking sheepishly. (Is it a bad thing that my first instinct is to backhand them both? And no, I have never done that. I've made plenty of mistakes parenting, but physical abuse has not been one of them.) I first look at Rebecca's new "artwork". Thankfully it's in a place that is usually covered by clothing, and will most likely only be seen at the beach. Small, tasteful script; a short phrase in Italian. Well, that makes sense, she is definitely part Italian - my doing. But still.



Brandon, however, is another matter entirely.




"Vice" and "Virtue"....in Latin?!? (My subconscious gives a nod of approval to the fact that he at least decided to use Latin, though I promptly squelch the urge to smile.) "..on your FOREARMS??"

Visions of a 45-year-old Brandon trying to hide the larger-than-life markings on his body while maintaining as a corporate CEO make me start to laugh, a reaction I definitely do not want them to see. Why is it that laughter shows up at the most inopportune times? I am MAD. I did *not* raise them like this! All of their lives they have heard "No Tattoos" right up there along with "No Drugs" (I promise to leave you there in jail!) "No Sex" (lengthy hour-long medically *and* legally substantiated lecture ensuing..it's difficult when your parents consist of a nurse and attorney.) "Do Well in School", et al.



"Didn't that HURT?" I ask them both. I examine the markings, noting the raised, darkened tissue. It looks a lot like gangrene to my tattoo-inexperienced eyes. (The inner nurse is emerging, take care of medical issues FIRST!) "Should you put an antibiotic ointment on it? Should it be covered? How are you going to deal with it at work while it's healing??"



Wait..I'm still MAD. Deep breath to center myself, and try to remain calm. "*WHY* DID YOU TWO DO THIS??? Did you think this through? How is it going to look when you're 40 and have a family and career? I should have known something was up, the way you wanted to get rid of us earlier! I cannot BELIEVE you would DO this!" I am *not* calm.



Rebecca slinks away to the kitchen, thankful that my anger is focused momentarily on her brother. "Mom, I've been wanting to do this since I was 18. I've thought about it for four years and designed it myself." Egad. I look at him incredulously. I should congratulate him? I shake my head, still stunned. "You DO know that this is permanent, correct?"



Brandon begins to crack up. "NO, Mother, they didn't tell us THAT! You mean...you mean to say it DOESN'T WASH OFF?" Becca has re-emerged from the kitchen, joining in. "You mean...It's PERMANENT? Oh NOES, what will we do?!?" All three of us are laughing, but I am still MAD.



"YES, we know it's permanent!" Words, sentences tumble over each other as they both try to convince me about how they've "thought this over". And I do remember various conversations here and there, where they would bring it up, and each time their father and/or I gave them the veto. I thought that was successful, until tonight. I'm still stunned.



"You both know I AM NOT HAPPY about this. I'm too tired to deal with this right now, we'll talk in the morning."



Dejected and defeated, I crawl back into bed. Jack has remained asleep throughout. How is that that men can sleep through anything? I lay in bed, sleepless, tears running down my face.