Show Your Love

This morning I was picking up my Holy Water (a.k.a. large coke) at McDonald's, and I noticed that the little boy at the window had a tattoo on his hand. I leaned in for a closer look--right there on the back of his hand was the name of his love. Marion. Written in pretty cursive letters. Large print, which was so great because I could read it from afar. I bet this makes Marion so happy. A love tattoo. I like it.

Lots of the Houston folks have tattoos. Even grandmas. I've noticed that they really like the roses. In color. Nothing shouts 'grandma!' like an ankle tattoo. My friend down the street has her kids names tattooed on her back. Again, it's nice and big so that I can read it from my porch. Her love tattoo is for her kids. Syrupy sweet.

I've been thinking about the love tattoos all day. Todd shows his love by mercilessly teasing. When he tells you your teeth look like corn, it just means love. Syrupy sweet. But maybe I would know that he REALLY loved me if he tattooed my name on himself somewhere. Not necessarily somewhere visible. How about a butt cheek? Large print. I could see it every time he got in the shower. sigh....even more tender and syrupy sweet. I would let him pick a real manly font, nothing cursive or tacky.

What would my love tattoo be? Hmmm. Well, I think it would be one of the following: Todd's brazilian name-Nescau (if no one knows what it says, it gives my tattoo more mystery), a tub of frosting, or the golden arches (Big Macs are eternal). I'm not quite sure which one I'll choose. I'm going to pray about it. I think I'll follow McDonald's boy's example and put mine on the back of my hand. Big font, easy for everyone to read when I'm at church. Syrupy sweet.