Hubby got inked!

So although I have no excitement to report ... Paul had a rather eventful day yesterday. He's been wanting to get a wedding band tattooed on his finger, as he can't wear his ring for work and just ends up not wearing it at all. (He really can't wear it now because I've hijacked it. I can't believe it actually fits me! Can't wait for my fingers to shrink up again.) I had gotten myself used to the idea of the ring tattoo, and then a few weeks ago he started talking about another idea that he had been dreaming of for months, for his right hand. Gulp. It became one of those things that the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to pursue it. My feelings on the idea were mixed. I asked him what he would do if I said I didn't want him to do it. He said he wouldn't, but he'd present a strong argument for it first! I didn't feel strongly enough against it to ask him not to go for it, so I gave my blessing. He went the next day after work.


The description, in his words ...

"I've been thinking about this for awhile. I like visual reminders in my life. And since I work with my hands, do business with my hands, hug my kids and wife with my hands, write with my hands, and many other daily activities with my hands, I thought "What better way for me to have a reminder about what I value than something permanent on my hand." The meaning behind the tatoo is that there are three directions: The one pointing to my index finger represents God, my thumb represents others, and back towards my arm represents myself. When love, acceptance and integrity exist within these three relationships you experience shalom. The word in the middle is the hebrew spelling (minus some really difficult and too small symbols) of the word 'shalom'. So in the center of all my relationships I want to experience shalom."

The original design had the lines all shaded in, but after Paul passed out twice, the guy decided to call it a day. The Hebrew letters will be filled in more, but we might leave the main design just shaded, not totally filled in. And when he goes back for the finishing touches (and the wedding band) we'll make sure he's had a good night's sleep and has food in his belly. By the time he sat in the chair at 6:00 last night, he hadn't eaten anything since 10:30 in the morning. Apparently more sustenance is required to endure the process! (Same thing happened 5 years ago when he got an immunization for our trip to Bolivia. He hadn't eaten much all day and crashed pretty quick at the first prick.) The bigger they are, the harder they fall!

I've had dc Talk's "Jesus Freak" song in my head for a few days now ... "I saw a man with a tatt on his big fat belly ..." - I'm glad my man went for a tatt on his hand instead.