A Life Story Illustrated in Tattoos

I'm not a fan of tattoos. I've never quite seen the attraction, at least not when done in excess. A subtle one — a beautiful butterfly on an ankle or a tiny symbol on the inside of a wrist — I actually think can be rather sexy. But big, bold and gaudy-ful I will never understand. From his early teens my youngest child threatened he would one day have a tattoo. I foolishly tried to reason with him. I had created a beautiful, flawless child, I told him. Did he understand how difficult it would be for me to see him covered in things? No surprise my pleas didn't work. What was a surprise, however, was how long it took before he acted. His three siblings had all secretly personalized their bodies many years before the family baby got around to it. You can be assured, however, that he has more than made up for it since, with a right arm covered in a colourful design of monkeys and a carousel. Oddly, I don't hate it, because while the other kids got smaller tattoos