...or something like that. Digger started asking for a tattoo several months ago and was mildly surprised when I agreed that if he could afford one, he could have one. After all, I've got two and Jay's got two, who am I to say that he can't mark himself for life? He's the one who has to live with it for the rest of his life, not me. I did ask him to really think about where he wanted it and that he should be able to cover it up; it's pretty darn hard to get a job with "sleeves".
He almost had my dad talked into getting him one for his birthday until my dad realized that it was his 17th birthday, not his 18th and bailed, so Digger kind of put his desire on the back burner for awhile. Occasionally he'd mention wanting one, but then would say, "when I've got the money." Poor, poor kid, his mom wouldn't run out and pay for his tattoo (Damn, they're expensive and I still haven't found how to grow a money tree from my butt).
However...RockCrawlinChef ponied up for Digger's tattoo as his Christmas present. We went and made the appointment at Skibo's in Fort Collins for the Saturday after Christmas, then framed the appointment card and wrapped that up for under the tree. You should have seen his face when he opened his gift and it dawned on him what he got.
Digger's appointment became family day, with me, RockCrawlinChef, and Digger's girlfriend all in the room watching him get inked. It was pretty boring, he didn't cry, scream, puke or pass out. BORING!
His tattoo turned out great; I'm really pleased with it and so is he. Andy, the artist, did a great job of customizing a wolf print so that it looks like Digger just got stepped on.