I was just in the bathroom cleaning up a mess that Q made in there yesterday afternoon, and I realized the story associated with that mess is the kind of thing "people" are talking about.
Q(11) told me yesterday that he wanted to pierce his ear. "Go ahead." I told him, not thinking he would go through with it. Let's just say he has sensitive skin. The next thing I know, Moe is running around looking for a lighter to use to sanitize a needle. I was still not concerned. Noah is looking at me this whole time, wondering when I'm going to step in. I choose my battles and honestly, appearance is not one of them. Besides, I was still thinking this was certainly not going to happen. Moe ran out of the bathroom and got some ice cubes.
I should interject that when Dh was in high school, he pierced his ear in the boys' restroom with a safety pin. So that's where the idea came from. When I was a teenager, I let one of my friends give me a tattoo. I guess I should throw the inkjet refills away before they get any ideas.
After a while, Q has not come out yet, I thought I should check on him. Noah and I had a funny discussion about which of my earrings Q would wear. I don't have many studs. He'd have to wear a long, dangly, beaded job. I found Q sitting on the shower stool that I borrowed for Sam to use, in front of my full-length mirror, needle hanging half-way out of his lobe.
"Mom! Is there anything else that will numb my ear? Alcohol? (I thought, "Sure, if you drink enough," ha! not really...I'd never encourage them to drink at 11.) Motrin?" "Sorry, son. Ice is it." Q hates cold and to be cold. He wasn't having any more of that. So he gave up.
I am relieved to say that we did not have any pirate initiates living here when Sam got home from work. While I don't battle over clothing (except that awful black, nylon shirt that Moe insists on wearing), Sam does. He wants clean-cut, all-American, red-neck boys, not pirates.
Tomorrow, the story of Moe's haircut :-)
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