No, I'm not talking about Heir I. This time, it's Heir II. He called last night asking if he could go to a friend's house and promised he be home by curfew. He called back at 11:30 requesting an extension and I granted it; then stayed up to make sure he arrived home safely.
He did -- around 12:30 am this morning. I wasn't so worried about the time since he was planning an all-nighter in anticipation to a 5:30 am departure for a band trip. We know he made it as we heard him leave the house in darkness...
When he arrived home, this is what we had found:
Fortunately, they're temporary tattoos. They'll eventually rub off or at least that's what I've been told. I wouldn't know for sure because I'd never get a fake or real one because I hate self-inflicted pain and can't see spending money on them.A friend once told me she had three and probably will get more in the future. She said she loves flowers and art and her tats are a reflection of her tastes.
I don't think Heir I has any taste, at least in the matters of body art. Fortunately for him, he opted for the fake ones his first time out. Had they been real, his momma -- SisIggy to those in the know -- would have killed the lad making his all-niter moot.
