Who was the great pirate captain that brought back tattoos from the Polynesian Islands? Some say it was Cook, others say Kidd; it’s a moot point when every sailorman brushes his children, mother or Jesus on the bicep.

People have been branding their bodies since the days of Baal and then they must cover these up to get good jobs in which they will wear long sleeve white shirts and collars. I tell my little girl all of this history as she sits on our tapestry dining room chair without much to say.

“Now just the other day… I saw a young man with hole punches in his earlobes. He filled these hole punches with rings that should go on a finger. I stopped the young man to ask him if they hurt much. Know what he said?”

Petaluma only shook her head and waited for the lecture to be over. Kids these days– they have it all figured out before they know what they are figure’n.

“This young man tells me that he has to clean the earwigs out of the rings every morning. So I ask him how he cleans the rings in his ears of bugs. Know what he says?”

Any other time, my girl would have interrupted with some traumatic exasperation: “Daaaaaaaaaad,” and then I would have complied to stop my sermon and we would be forced not to speak for two days until her allowance came short or until I broke the lock on her door. We knew each other very well, this daughter and I.

So it was that she could only shrug, the duct tape at her ankles keeping her firmly to the chair. I really did hate the silent treatment, whether it was to give or to receive. In fact my wife and I talked about this for long periods before her death. It was said that there is no response to the passive protesting of the child who gives a parent the silent treatment. I had learned otherwise.

“So this young fellow tells me he has to use Raid in the ears every morning on his exposed skin. I ask him if it works alright and he has to look around before responding: ‘my hair has turned green, my ears have flamed to twice their size and the best case scenario is that I go around town with dead earwigs in the ears spilling out all day.’ See, he just wasn’t sold himself on the fashion statement.”

I looked at my little Petaluma and waited for her eyes to become bright with understanding. They only registered a cannabis haze. It was time to pluck the apple from her mouth.

I did.

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND??”

She tried to cry and protest but I wouldn’t take it. After only a few whines shimmied from the lips, I snapped the apple back to her mouth by the elastic. It completely closed all her means of verbal communications. Then, because I was a good father, I took a small mirror and placed it under her nose. She was making good fog on the mirror from the nose. It was very satisfying.

There is nothing worst in the world than seeing your child come home with an apple squashed into their mouth like a gimp mask. You can ask them why ten times till Sunday and they will have to take that apple out of their mouth to respond: “all the kids are doing it.”

I don’t know who came up with this one; this _trend_. All’s I can say is that I like it so far.

                                                  ~~

Image: baytherapy.com

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Published in: on August 29, 2006 at 2:24 am  Comments Off on