When I got home and undressed that night, my husband asked me about the tattoo.
When I walked into the tattoo shop with my daughter, I was there only to watch her get her tattoo. I thought it was large and garish, and I swore I would never have my body defiled in the same way. I was looking at some tattoos they showed on their walls, but other than the smaller ones, there was nothing I would even consider. One of the tattoo artists asked if I was interested in getting a tattoo. I told her I was too old, and I wanted nothing on my body that wouldn’t wash off. I didn’t want to watch it sag as my skin sagged. She was laughing when I said this, but she said she had several removable tattoos. There were patches like the tattoo transfers kids used. She could give me a henna tattoo that would only last a couple of days. She showed me a small tattoo that looked like a butterfly and asked where I would like it. I showed a small spot on my breastbone, and she said it would only take about an hour. I didn’t tell my daughter I was getting a Henna tattoo, because I wanted to see my husband’s reaction first. When I got home and undressed that night, my husband asked me about the tattoo. He asked me when I got it, and I told him. He said it was okay, but he didn’t know if he liked it being permanent. I told him it was Henna and it would wash off in a couple of days. He said Henna was nice, but he liked me better without.