TATT’S HOW IT IS!

Her son gets an inking and Kate does some thinking

Regular readers of this column may or may not recall that my eldest son decided he wanted to get a tattoo last year and therefore saved up to buy himself one as soon as he turned 18.

Sighing, I accepted that I could no longer do anything to protect his pink, fleshy arms from ink if he so chose to get it embedded into himself. Then the following Christmas morning he revealed to me his “surprise gift”, which was yet another tattoo, but this time it was angel wings with a halo and my initials.

“You’re my angel, Mum,” he said, going in for the hard sell. Only a teenager will get a tattoo on the arm and claim it’s a gift to you. But we are not here to reason with teens. The other day, for his birthday, his uncle asked him what he’d like for a present. “More ink,” was the answer. Tattoos, you see, are addictive. He was going for the full sleeve.

I begged him not to go beyond the wrist. I asked him to try to imagine a time when he might indeed want to wear a business shirt or have a serious job, which may or may not regard tattoos as an impediment. Sadly, this fell on deaf ears. Teenagers can’t see beyond next week and can’t imagine a world in which people would see things differently to them.

“An impediment?” he sneered, sounding out every syllable. “How on earth is a tattoo an impediment?”

See what I mean?

The actions of the first teenager, however, do serve as a good marker of what, or what not, to do for the other kids. For example, upon hearing how painful his latest (large) tattoo was, and upon seeing how red and sore it looked after it was first done, the other kids turned up their noses and decided it wasn’t for them. We’ll see if they change their minds, of course, because ... teenagers. Never say never.

I had also tried to reason with him that bang for buck, the cost of that ink on his arm was quite large and perhaps the money might be better spent on stuff he actually needed, like a car, food and life in general. But no, ink was the priority and in his words, “worth every cent”.

I remain convinced that our children are our greatest teachers, although maybe sometimes the lessons are hard to see, but I credit my son with challenging my stereotypes and views, the judgments we make and the conclusions we jump to.

It’s also our kids’ job to drag us into the modern age, albeit kicking and screaming sometimes. Although for me, an arm full of tattoos may not be ideal, for him and his world, it’s perfectly acceptable.

The end result was actually better than I thought. The tattoos look good. I had to admit I quite liked them.

“You should get one too, Mum!” he enthused.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far, babe,” I replied. “But never say never.”