Blue Speckled Pup is moving up in the world: I have fans!
Today, I send great big birthday wishes to my uncle in Innisfail, who is turning 65. This is the man who, according to my folks, made a fist pump in a Red Deer Montana’s restaurant and proclaimed himself my number one fan. He’s a nifty guy who loves animals, particularly cocker spaniels. He also (obviously) has great taste in blogs.
Years ago, my grandparents and I went out to lunch with this particular uncle and his lovely wife, who is my little grandma’s little sister. Technically, they are my great aunt and uncle, but since I’ve never referred to them as “Great Auntie Whatshername” and “Great Uncle Whatchacallhim,” we’ll keep calling them Auntie and Uncle for smooth reading.
Anyway, after lunch, my sweet auntie shyly asked me if I had any tattoos while we were crossing the parking lot. I think she asked because I had quite a few bits of my body pierced at that point, so I appeared to be the most masochistic person she knew. Auntie seemed a bit disappointed when I admitted that I was, in fact, devoid of ink. She explained that she was thinking of getting a tattoo.
Note, please, that Auntie did not intend to be tattooed with anything offensive or unruly. She was not planning an ink portrait of a grinning, greasy, and mostly naked Brad Pitt (although I might have encouraged that). She was also not considering something way too teenage girl, like having a motto in fancy lettering placed in the small of her back. Wisely, she was not contemplating a design with skulls that would make her look like a semi-retired pirate wench.
Simply put, she imagined a single red rose. When I asked where she planned to put it, she explained that she’d like to tattoo it on her left breast, directly over her heart.
“Auntie, I love you,” I explained. “Roses are lovely, but that tattoo is a bad idea.” She looked a little confused, until I explained. “If you put that flower where you’re planning, Auntie, it will look nice for now. Sooner or later, though, it’s going to be a long-stemmed rose.”
This is the point in the afternoon where my auntie collapsed against a car, laughing until she could laugh no more with tears streaming down her cheeks and onto the paint of someone else’s automobile. We still giggle about that conversation from time to time.
I’ve got a great family. We have fun, and sometimes we laugh so hard that tears run down our legs. Those are the best days.
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