On the work front:
Most work mornings I walk to the top floor of the library parking deck and survey the Appalachian Kingdom. I am attracted upward because the early light has never been the same and because I can be alone for just a few minutes. It is a new ritual.
On the home front:
"Would you completely hate me if I got my tongue pierced. I'm going to do it anyway no matter what you say."
That was the text message my youngest daughter sent me yesterday.
I did not freak. Instead, I whipped around my chair and asked my Google Guru, Gnumoon, for help.
"Quick, find a rational reason why my youngest should not get her tongue pierced," I pleaded.
Gnumoon made quick magic on the keyboard and blurted, "Brain Abscess. She might get a brain abscess," she reported.
So I text messaged my daughter back and in the same tone that the adults tell Ralphie why he shouldn't get a Red Ryder BB Gun I typed,
"You'll die of a brain abscess, kid. Just google it for yourself."
Later in the evening, youngest did do some internet searching on the subject and the horrifying images of infected tongues and brain abscesses convinced her to reconsider.
Whew. Another bullet is dodged.
She turns 18 in a week and longs to get something pierced to, ya know, like make a personal statement about being an adult <eye roll>. I asked her to get her ears double pierced, but she wasn't buying it. The belly button is out because she has to dance for the next couple of months and it will chaffe 'neath a tutu. And any facial piercings may make her father and dance teachers' heads explode.
I reckon we'll just have to wait and see what she comes up with....
...BTW, I don't have a problem at all with piercing or tats on anyone but my daughters. It is a parent thing, I reckon.
