'Til Ink Do Us Part

Look at what Clint got tattooed on his arm today!  This is the underside of his forearm.  We thought the whole process was going to take about an hour, so Clint dropped off the kids and I at Starbucks, and then drove himself to the tattoo parlor.  He ended up being gone for two hours.  It was all good until Elijah's laptop ran out of juice, and he started to get hungry and bored.  So I walked the kids to a nearby Burger King, and then all was right with the world again.  When Clint finally joined us, I was dying to see his new tattoo.  I was absolutely shocked.  I think I might have hyperventilated a little. I knew he was going to get the image of the Menora, Star of David, and Ichthus on his forearm, tied together as one image, but I had NO idea he was going to have my name added.  We had jokingly talked about him getting a tattoo that included my name or initials a few years ago, but his overall response was a big fat hell no.  I have no idea what prompted him to do this.  Even now, it trips me out to see my name emblazened on his flesh--and not itty-bitty, either.  It takes up his whole wrist.

So it's official, if we end up not working out, he'll have to find himself another Jodi.  I started looking up other Jodis on facebook, and most of them are pretty cute, so he should be fine.

But seriously, it's hard to feel even remotely irritated with someone who has your name engraved on their arm. 

Oh, one more thing.  He said my name was the most painful part of the tattoo.  Is it wrong that I feel a tiny sense of pride over that?