The End of an Era

When I arrived home from Houston, I threw all of my bags and shoes on top of my dresser in order to escape the wrath of the little pissing dog, Mac. It seems he has marked everything in the house. We have now steam cleaned or washed each of these things, which hopefully only contain enough of the urine smell to satisfy the dog that each corner, table leg, or fiber of carpet clearly displays an olfactory neon sign stating MAC WAS HERE. I, with a great nose in more ways than one, search for new markings often. Luckily the number of marking has gone down significantly, but if you leave something new on the floor, it's fair game for a little leg lifting.

As I set my things on the dresser, I saw these:
If you cannot tell, these are the rings that have inhabited my husband's nipples for as long as I have known him. My guess is that he wasn't born with them, especially considering he comes from a Mid-western, Catholic family, but he may have acquired them sometime in his teens. This means he was pierced over a decade ago, my best guess, a decade and a half.

I too had a rebellious stage. My parents told my sisters and I that if we ever got a tattoo, they would not pay for college. This sunk in and to date, none of us have branded ourselves with ink. Instead I got pierced a few times; don't think dirty. Because of the bar in my tongue, I found myself not enunciating properly and other rings showed through tops, which by the age of 20, looked really tacky to me. I was metal-in-the-body free before my 21st birthday.

KP, on the other hand, had had no concerns about what other people thought of his rings. This is a statement about his character, really. He never cares what other people think about anything. KP does things for himself, me, friends, and family only. The rest of the world is just the fray in his mind. I love this about him. I did not love his nipple rings on display for all of our wedding guests the entire week of our Mexico wedding. I have also wondered many times what his grandparents think when they see him pierced in the summer time. My one consolation in that situation is that he gets his carefree attitude from them and his Mom, so they probably don't care at all.

KP took the above bars out for his surgery almost two weeks ago. I have not said anything to him about whether or not he plans to put them back in. Hopefully he will just forget about them all together. And no, he still doesn't know or care to know how to turn on the computer to read this. Safe.

I'll keep you posted, but I think this is the end of the pierced nipple era in our home.