When Your Tattoo Artist Moves To Texas

You go to Texas for your tattoos. Which is exactly what happened last weekend to mark an (if you ask me) unremarkable date. Grandma flew from MN to NY to care for the tot so that mom and dad could fly from NY to TX to get inked. Mom was turning 29 with 12 months experience and dad thought it appropriate to mark the occasion by officially inking the design we'd been skipping about for months via a weekend trip to Austin, TX. Where, the most talented tattoo artist on the planet (who abandoned us by moving from NY to TX last year...) had blocked off an entire Saturday afternoon. For us. So grandma flew, we high-fived and tagged off in passing, and then we flew.

To anyone un-inked this may seem a bit frivolous, but to the inked in the crowd it makes complete sense. After all, once you've had someone use your body as a permanent canvas, well, you're kind of leery about having anyone else step in. So there ya go. That's the whole story, A-Z, about why mom and dad had to fly to the live music capital of the world and not listen to any live music at all because we spent the whole damn weekend in transit just because the only person on Earth who could ink the way we wanted lives there. In Texas.

GO LONGHORNS.

And guess what. The tot and the grandma, and the mom and the dad, and the inker and the inked, well, we all made it to Monday. In a "my back is just a wee bit sexier than it was on Friday" kind of way. Not at all in a "30" kind of way, but in a completely kickin 29 + gaining experience every day kind of love.

Go Mom.

Style details:
Mom: Ash leaves (from the Ash tree) circling Wondemu in Amharic script
Dad: Wondemu in Amharic script through the star shown on Ethiopian flags and passports
Womdemu = Ash's given name at birth.