Duh, sign there

Dragging the kids around town.

The baby was crying, Nina was dragging and I was talking to the teens. Distracted, I held the baby in one arm and dug around in my purse with my other hand for my keys.

I walked face first into a handicapped parking sign.

Just about knocked myself out.

A tattoo.

My son Ben, age 16, came into the kitchen with a friend the other day and they were talking about getting tattoos. You just know he is going to want something stupid that he will regret once he leaves high school. Or maybe he will go into his bedroom and give himself a nasty homemade tattoo that will get infected and cost me thousands of dollars in medical care.

My brother has what is quite possibly the stupidest, ugliest tattoo I have ever seen and it is on his ankle forever. Learn from his mistake, I say.

I try to get my kids to think things through without acting like I am saying "no" to something they want.
I don't want Ben to go out and get a big tattoo on his face out of spite and then live with me forever because no one will hire him.
So I told him he could get a tattoo, I would even drive him and pay for the tattoo

but it has to be huge.

And it has to say "I love my mom!"