The Musings Of An Opinionated Sod [Help Me Grow!]

I was holidaying in LA, saw a tattoo shop and – after some encouragement from my friend Paul – went in and had a big one on the underside of my arm.

Hey, nothing like jumping all in eh.

But from that moment, the tattoo became something very important to me.

To be honest, I’d always wanted one but chickened out because of the fear of pain – but not only did it not hurt at all [in fact I fall asleep when I have them] I discovered it the ultimate way to express my sentimentality towards people, dates and things that held a very significant place in my life.

Since that day way back in 2012, I’ve had loads of tattoos.

Birthdays.
Postcodes.
Phone numbers.
Signatures.
Names, pictures and paws of pets.
Honoring Mum, Dad, Jill, Otis and China.
Personal philosophies and heroes.
Nottingham Forest and Queen.
Some weird shit for some friends.
And nods to LA, UK, NZ and Italy.

There’s not one that I regret because each and every one of them is there for a reason.

No ‘moments of stupidity’.
No ‘this would be good for a laugh’.
No ‘tribal or badly translated rubbish’.

Each tattoo represents something deeply important and significant to me – even if to the causal observer, it may look like I have a bunch of random and weird stuff across my arms.

I say all this because recently, Otis asked if I had any tattoos for him, to which I proudly pointed to the one of his name and his date of birth.

And while he seemed moderately pleased with this, it apparently wasn’t enough because he asked if he could design one … a tattoo that captured who he was and what he believed. And I stupidly said ‘yes’, which is why I am currently in negotiations with him to decide which of these will be inked upon my body in the next few weeks.

For the record, the reason the potential designs are all in type is because I don’t have any room on my arms for a picture and he wants to ensure it is something that can be – and will be – seen at all times, haha.

Now before you think I’m blindly pandering to my son’s whims and wants … he genuinely loves rice. In fact he has it every night for dinner which he claims is because he was born in China … so while his tastes may well change or evolve over time, ‘Rice Is Life’ does capture who he is and what he believes, which means – for me – it ticks all the criteria boxes needed to go out and make it a permanent symbol on my body.

The ad industry could learn from kids for their powers of persuasion.