Tomorrow is Australia Day.
At the Little Man's kindergarten they were marking this in a couple of different ways, including little "Australia" tattoos to the arms that could be washed off. You could tell he loved this - flashing his limbs at me as if to say: "Hello - my arms are better than yours! I have tats!!!"Of course he was right - at least until bath time when his arms were ceremoniously scrubbed and all of this lovely handiwork disappeared. I could say to his disgust - but by this time I don't think he particularly cared and was more interested in some other toys. This is the nature of the 4 year old...
I asked myself whether, in the years gone by, I too would have loved to get a tattoo. I remember a time in University, when a friend who was studying graphic art put together a small picture of stars and clouds. I was going to get it tattooed to an upper arm, but I chickened out and now I don't know where that picture is. We used to deliver pizzas and, while waiting for orders, there was time for interesting conversations. He had tattoos of his design, I didn't. It's obvious I would be tempted. I loved the idea of reaching for the stars lol...
Well, over the years, the temptation has faded and now as I'm working towards the end of my 40's, I'm glad to a degree that I didn't. There are people of the older generations who suit tattoos, even in their very old wrinkly years. I know I wouldn't like it.
As for the Little Man - is he allowed to get a tattoo in the years to come? I don't have to face that hairy question till he's 18 and by that age he'll make his own decisions. Till then? Well - he can have the wash off ones for Australia Day :)