A few years back, I decided to get a tattoo that represented my kid. He’s half Polish and half Canadian. I’m the Canadian half. 😉 I already have a maple leaf on my hip, so I figure what the heck, get a Polish eagle on my other hip. Get the kid’s name over the eagle and his birth date under it. I worked with the artist, who’s also a good friend, on what I wanted. He sent me several sketches and my husband looked them over as well to make sure the eagle was correct.
Happy with the sketch, I make an appointment and spend the next few hours chatting with the artist while he inked me. This was my fourth tat, so I knew what to expect in regards to pain, although sometimes it felt like my stomach was being ripped apart when certain nerves were touched.
Since the tat was for my kid, I told my friend about the birth and etc. Don’t ever get women started on the birth of their child(ren) because you will get gory details. And I have no idea why women, me included, feel the need to share this information, but damn it, we will! Anyway, I explained that the kid’s birthday was August 1, 2008 but I kinda hoped he’d hang on until August 8 because an 08/08/08 birthday would’ve been so easy for me to remember.
The artist finished inking me, was wiping away the last of the blood, and checking over his handiwork when he said, “Good thing he waited then.”
I looked at him, a little confused. “No, he was born on the 1st, his due date. A very prompt little bugger.”
The horror that washed over his face is forever etched in my mind. I peered at my brand-spanking new tat with the beautiful swirls of 08/08/08, not 08/01/08. Frantic now, he searches through our facebook messages to see which one of us had screwed up. Meanwhile I’m laughing so freaken hard. And guess what, it was me who screwed up my own kid’s birthday. I had sent 08/08/08 to him. The numbers must have stuck in my head. Oopsie.
So whenever someone says “Who could possibly forget their own kid’s birthday?” you can point your finger at me. 😉
It ended well though. Once the tat healed, I went back and had three roses tattooed over top of the date. A red one for my husband, a purple one for me, and a blue one for our son. I love the way they look and it adds more meaning to it, plus gives me a damn funny story to tell others.
Of course now my friends tease me about it. They state my kid has two birthdays, and they even wish him happy birthday on both days. He knows the story behind it and at (almost) seven years old, he finds it amusing.