Two Little Birds

I did it.

I added to my tattoo collection, much to my poor mother’s dismay. Sorry, disapproving family members.

Smoop’s response? “Well, I guess it’s not as horrible as it could have been.”

Which, coming from her, is really a glowing review when it comes to tattoos.

But it’s done, and it’s adorable, and I love it. I’m also slightly biased, but I think it’s super cute, easily concealed if necessary, and very feminine.

Originally, the plan was to get three little swallows on my wrist — which resulted in me humming every time I told someone about it.

But once I got in the chair, and saw the design shaping up, I decided to go for two instead of three. Mainly because things were a little off balance with the third bird.  As in, I couldn’t tell what was a wing, or a head, so I said, “maybe we don’t do that one, okay, thanks.”

Why swallows? Well, there were a few reasons, really.

For starters, once swallows get together, they mate for life. (Not like seagulls, those feathery whores!) So, they’re considered symbols of loyalty and fidelity — which is always a good thing, yes? So right now there are two: one for me, and one for Mike. Once we finally make some babies up in this piece, I can add to the flock (or if we have twins, I figure I can just call it a day so my mother doesn’t disown me.)

Back in the day, sailors (and let’s be honest, probably pirates) looked for swallows for signs of nearby land — so they were considered symbols of hope and freedom (also always a plus). And while I sort of hate boats, I do have a mouth like a sailor, so that should count for something.

And let’s not forget the fertile “birds and the bees” connection — an area I’ll take help where ever I can get it. And since I’m terrified of bees, that really just left birds — so here we are!

So my bff Kristina and I headed over to Ghost Town Odditorium in Old Ellicott City — and left with her son’s birthday in roman numerals, and some swallows respectively about an hour later — both on the underside of our left wrists.

The last time I got a tattoo — it was a sort of good luck charm — and four months later, I met Mike.

So here’s hoping these wee birdies are full of positive fertile juju and work their magic quickly.

 

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