It's no secret that Big Dave and I are redneck soul mates. After 22 years of knowing each other, we are comfortable in our love and aren't afraid to admit that we occasionally fantasize about dismembering one another and burying the leftovers in the backyard. It's all good in our Dhuland marriage.
So for probably a year or so, I've had the hankering to get a wedding ring tattoo. I never wear my original wedding set... it's SO 1995, and I've gained roughly 30 pounds since then and it's tight on my finger. Plus, it's just something I've got to think about putting on. So it gets left in the jewelry box. No big deal. Big Dave isn't a fan of his either, only wearing it at weddings and funerals.
Consequently, I figured I'd save myself the ring torment, and get something permanent carved into my epidermis. Makes total sense right? I'm totally over dudes starting conversations with me in Home Depot ("Uh, so you like hummingbirds?") or Kroger ("Are you married? Would you like me to show you how to cook that salmon?")
The problem in my tatty plan was that my darling husband didn't think it was a good idea. (He's the semi-practical one in this relationship.) I mean what happens if we get a divorce? (Um, not happening... I'm having a 50th wedding anniversary if it kills me.) Or what if he dies? (See aforementioned dismemberment fantasy.) He even went so far as to question whether it's a Godly thing to do because of that whole "bodies are temples" thing. (Even though we both abuse our bodies with food and drink on a regular basis.)
So I talked myself out of it. Decided that if it bugged him that badly, I'd not worry about it. Ah, the art of marriage. Give and take. Yin and Yang, and all that bullshit.
But my birthday's coming up on Sept. 4th, so the other day he told me to block off some time on my schedule. He had something we needed to go do that he couldn't tell me about. (Go car shopping for Lizzy? Buy me a 60" tv so I can REALLY get into BAMA football? Get me a pony?) I was clueless.
When Monday morning rolled around we loaded up in the car to head out on our mystery expedition. At some point he told me to close my eyes. He took a round about route and got me totally lost (I was guessing Thunderbolt) and then told me to open my eyes. Tada! We were in front of Good Fortune Tattoos!! I blinked a couple of times, and asked what we were doing here. I mean I never ever ever even thought this was a possibility.
He said, "We're getting your wedding ring tattoo." Holy crap! Thank goodness for smart phones because I had to jump on Pinterest real quick and find the tat that I'd been eyeballing. We signed the papers, and Amanda (the tat artist) said, "That'll be $40, and Big Dave said, does that include mine?"
I did a double take.
What did he just say? No way my boy was going to actually get a tattoo! But as he often does, he'd thought about it long and hard and decided that he wanted to do this to show me how much he loves me. Awww... redneck love. It's the best kind!
I tried to talk him out of it since I thought I knew his views on it, but he'd made up his mind and I've learned that once my redheaded BAMA boy makes up his mind about something, there's not a lot of changing it.
I'd already chosen an infinity symbol for mine. It's representative of my love for him. Plus, if he ever tries to run away from me, it'll represent how long I'll want to chop his balls off. It's a win/win. And he chose a scope and crosshairs. It's a manly, hunter, country boy symbol of how he had me in his sights and brought me home. We affectionately call it, 'One shot, one kill.' And if I ever run away from him, it'll represent what he'd like to do to me. Another win/win. Ha!
So here we have 'em...
And here's mine in it's most useful role...
LOVE LOVE LOVE them!!!! I'm so happy with my birthday surprise, and once again, he has proven:
a.) He is as insane as I am.
b.) He loves me.
c.) I always get what I want. (His words, not mine.)