Teacher of all things.

Recently, while on my trip to Florida with the Princess we spent some time in Seuss Landing. Which is pretty much my favorite place. I am an adult that typically doesn’t enjoy animations, cartoons or movies where animals are made to speak. I do however enjoy Seuss Landing. I could just sit there all day if it weren’t for all the little kids everywhere, screaming, while their mothers shame them into understanding that this is fun and the fun is being ruined by all their screaming. Ironically, that is also what EVERY SINGLE womens restroom at EVERY SINGLE Disney theme park looks like. “Damnit Little Herkamer! Stop your crying! We are having Fun!!” Happiest place on Earth, my arse. Anywhooooo, while in one of the shops, Princess points out the t-shirt that says, “Teacher of all things” and suggests that I should get it. I explain that I am NOT a teacher and I am certain I was not the target market for that shirt. She argued that I was indeed a teacher, and that I teach everyone in the house all the time. We went back and forth until I found a shirt that said “Mother of all things” and went with that instead. Turns out that I should have listened to Princess because the shirt I got was clearly cut for the body of Christie Brinkley. Not even regular Christie Brinkley, but the really thin version of her during the Billy Joel years. Given the theme of the shirt, and what I would assume is the target market, I find the supermodel slim cut a bit disturbing, but whatever. Someday have aspirations that I will fit into that stupid 3XL slim cut t-shirt. #lifegoals

Fast forward to today. I’m sitting in an Urgent Care because one of the sweet little innocents in the house got herself a stick and poke tattoo. This happened at least a month ago and well before she was blessed with me, the poster child for tattoo artwork, as a foster parent. At some point her caseworker stumbled upon evidence that she had it and I was instructed to have her medically cleared via an urgent care. I’d like to tell you this is the first time this has happened to me. It isn’t. I had a nice chat with said little innocent and let her know that if she had any other confessions to make, now was probably the time. At which point, two more expertly crafted stick and poke tattoos were revealed. Fun times we are having today! I am however beyond grateful that she told me the truth about it. So win there I guess.

The doctor comes in and I explained why we were there. His response was to admit that he had no idea what a stick and poke tattoo even was or the process. If you don’t know, I again encourage you to consult The Google. Mind you I have been down this stick and poke tattoo road a handful of times. I don’t understand how a Doctor working an urgent care has no idea what one is. I am even more perplexed that I’m the one teaching this Doctor about the various sharp objects that can be utilized for these tattoos. Right then I remembered the “teacher of all things” shirt. You know, the one that was not cut for Christie Brinkley. Turns out Princess may have been correct. (She gets that from me.)

So, now that I’ve educated this Doctor, he decides to go down the road of trying to deter my little duckling that she doesn’t want tattoos because she 1: isn’t old enough and 2: doesn’t want hepatitis. He then goes into a full story about how his Dad pulled him aside just before he took off for the Navy and instructed the good Doctor not to get a tattoo. You know, because you get older and they don’t look like they once did, (along with the rest of you), and it is with you for life. As he blathers on about the tattoo removal industry, all I can think to myself is how I always tell my kids to know their audience. As it is still Winter in Michigan, I have long sleeves on so this guy can’t see the tattoos all over my arms. He takes a break in his lecture and I rolled up my sleeves. He glances over and says how tattoos used to only be for bikers and prison inmates, but the stigma is lifting. Oooookkkkaaaayyyyy. It is too bad that Sassy Britches wasn’t there with me. This is a teachable moment right here. I am always trying to get her to understand when it’s time to stop talking. This Doctor had hit that line and blew right through it. The moment was awkward, and painfully obvious. Someone should have told this poor man to stop talking at hepatitis.