This is an official announcement - I am now used to my son's tattoos. They're part of him, and they're beautiful. Except for the sailing ship on his chest and a few bits and pieces, they're all animals - otters, an owl, giraffes, a red panda - and each animal is for someone specific in his life. (The giraffes covering one calf - a mother and a baby - are for me.)
Yes, the ones on his fingers I could live without. But when I look at this man, I don't see the scribbles on his skin, I see the most beautiful face in the world, except for two others. He's kind, loyal, hilariously funny and full of life.
I sorta like him.
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