There it is, a face tattoo.

And I’m not talking about the small, yet somehow both pretty and tasteful face tattoos like Kat Von D has.

I’ve seen some very odd face tattoos lately.  When I see them it takes me aback and I find myself doing a double-take.  I quickly feel guilty for staring but then I remind myself that I’m not staring at some unfortunate person who was scarred by a fire.  This person wants to be started at.  I mean right, the main reason someone would get a tattoo on their face is so that people will stare at them?

I wonder if I’m just noticing face tattoo’s more or if it’s a new trend and there are actually more people willing to commit to something on their face FOREVER?  Hey, I’m all for trends.  I’m fine with tattoos.  It’s just the face tattoos that freak me out.

Maybe we have Ed Helms to thank?

But I doubt it.  The type of person who would get a face tattoo isn’t the type of person that, I would think, would be super into comedy.

(Maybe I’m wrong.)

When I see someone with a face tattoo my first thought (after reminding myself that it’s okay to stare) is of their mother.  Their sweet, sweet mother.

I picture a woman, maybe not that much older then myself, holding her precious baby in her arms and promising to always feed and clothe him.  I see her wrapping him in a soft blanket and rubbing his perfect baby face as he falls asleep.

Fast forward eighteen plus years.  The same mother is setting the table for Thanksgiving dinner.  She carefully lays out her wedding china while she waits for the turkey to be done.  She baked her son’s favorite banana cream pie and you can still smell it in the air.

It’s the next part of this little vision that makes me want to run up to the person sporting the face tattoo and yell, “what does your mother think about your tattoo?!”

I hope it’s a rhetorical question.

His poor mom didn’t ask for this.  When she was baking the crust for the banana cream pie she didn’t think that when her precious son finally walked in the door she’d be trading that banana cream pie for face tattoo.

Seriously.

Why would anyone tattoo their face?

How can they do that to their mom?

I honestly don’t worry about the person with the actual face tattoo.  I don’t spend time wondering what type of office allows it’s workers to have tattooed faces.  I don’t try to picture how that tattoo is going to look once the kid is about 50 and their face starts to wrinkle.  (Forget about what it’s going to look like in their eighties.)  I just think about their mom.

I don’t know what I’d do if Rerun or Babboo showed up with a tattooed face at some point.

They can be darn sure they wouldn’t be getting any more banana cream pies.  That’s for certain.

So tell me, are there a lot of face tattoos out there or is it just me?

(And what would you do if your kid came home with a tattoo on their face?!)

As soon as I got out of the car and began walking to the library I realized there was a man walking near me on his way inside the library too.  He was totally dressed like Ali G (yellow track suit AND a huge [faux] gold chain) so he was hard to miss.

(Don’t act like you don’t know who Ali G is.)

“R.E.S.T.E.C.P! Do ya even know wha it spellz?”

(Plus, the guy had BLACK teeth. Which totally grossed me out.)

Anyway, he was walking behind me and he started asking me all sorts of questions  I answered him, but I never stopped walking towards the library.

“When are you due?”

“Two days ago.”

What are you having?

“A boy.”

“Is it uncomfortable?”

(I have to admit that when he asked me this one I wasn’t sure if he meant “is it uncomfortable being pregnant?” OR “is it uncomfortable talking to me?”)

(The answer to both being “YES!”)

Do you have other kids?

“I have a four year old son.”

“Are you scared?”

(Again, did he mean “are you scared of having a baby?” OR “are you scared talking to me?”)

(Both questions a little too personal to answer.)

Eventually I got inside the library and quickly picked up my CD’s, checked them out and started to leave.  That’s when I noticed the same dude out in the lobby. (The yellow track suit was hard to miss.)  I was pretty sure he was waiting for me. (I was also pretty sure at this point that he was either a hobo [as Carrisa likes to call homeless people] or a little crazy.) (Or better yet, both.)

He sidled up to me in the lobby and our conversation from earlier continued.

“My baby would have been 13 years old today.”

While I admit to having a pretty black heart, I’m not totally heartless.  I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him.  I may have even started to shed a tear as I thought about My Sweet Babboo and little Rerun.

“Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss!  That must be horrible.”

“On Monday it was 5 years since he died.”

My heart broke for him and, again, I told him how sorry I was.

I stood there in the lobby of the library not sure what to say to him next.  I knew nothing I could say would really do any good.  Finally he broke the silence.

“Well, when I say ‘baby’ you’re probably thinking of an actual ‘baby’. He was a parrot!”

I’m pretty sure that at the exact moment he said that my black heart turned even blacker.

And I walked away.

What is it with me and parrots?

I looked out the window by the front door and saw two twentyish super cute gals. One was texting on her pink iphone and I couldn’t see the face of the other one. I thought it might be our single female next door neighbor. I thought maybe she was locked out of her house, or something. So I opened the door, with The King behind me.

The girl who’s face I couldn’t see saw me and CLEARLY looked freaked. She was all “we have the wrong house”.

“Yeah you do.”

And they turned and walked away. And The King and I walked back upstairs to bed.

As if this isn’t odd enough there is a twist to this story. A huge twist.

One of the girls had a live parrot on her shoulder.

A PARROT.

ON HER SHOULDER!

*

So many questions.

First off, our house looks very different from any house on our block. There is no mistaking our house for another house. No way. And yet, how did they mistake our house for someone else’s house?

Didn’t they notice our two cars in the driveway and realize they weren’t cars that belonged to friends of theirs?

Why didn’t they think anything of the fact that it probably took The King and I a couple of minutes to actually get to the door to open it? This gave them plenty of time to figure out they were at the wrong house.

Who rings the door bell of a completely dark house at 11:45? Even if you think you know the person?

Could this be a Craigslist Escort ad gone bad and how does the parrot play into that scenario?

The King and I sat in bed trying to figure this out for way too long. We just couldn’t get what the angle was on this. Were they scoping out our house to rob it later? Were they running a screen for someone else to sneak in the garage and steal all of The King’s tools?

Seriously…it’s crazy!!!

Mostly because they were two super cute and totally normal looking girls.

But really mostly because there was the whole “live parrot on her shoulder” element.

So tell me, seriously, what do you think this was all about?

*The girl was much cuter then this lady (although not as happy looking). And she wasn’t wearing a Bird Shoulder Cape that is available for purchase for a mere $16.99.

You know how our mom’s always told us, “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all!”?

Yeah well, I’m sort of like that with secrets.  It can be hard for me to keep a secret.  So when I have a really juicy one I just try to keep my mouth shut.

Completely.

Basically I haven’t talked to too many people in the last few months.  I’m sure all my friends on the internet and IRL hate me.  It’s just that I’ve got a juicy secret.

We’re buying a second car.

Oh yes, The King family which has been a one-car-family for the last ten years is stepping it up a notch.  This is also the family that set a New Years Resolution to drive the one car less this year and try to walk or take the bus as much as possible.

Um yeah, we’re totally going to help add to the death of the environment with a second car.

And an SUV at that.

We hate to do it, but we have to.

We must succumb.

You see, there is absolutely no way to fit two car seats in our current car.

And come sometime in August we’re gonna need room for Rerun’s car seat.

• using self tanners (”it messes up my hands”)
• how they vote on American Idol (”the girls were on last night”)
• Gossip Girl (”its easy to love to hate it”) (”you can’t DVR it or you won’t be able to talk to your friends about it on Tuesday!”)
• not being into Chantel anymore (an ex-girlfriend?) (”She’s so last month.”)
• shaving their balls (”i just take my razor in the shower and do it at the gym.  it’s saves time.”)

Although I was a mere 2 inches in front of them, they must have thought I was far enough away and wouldn’t hear them.

IT WAS NOT FAR ENOUGH AWAY.  And I did hear them.

I had no idea that hott guys talked this way.   To be honest, I’m a little disappointed.