November 17, 2011
She sits down, smiles.
“Do you know the legal age of consent for piercings in New Zealand?” she asks. Smugly.
I can tell by the way she is asking, that she knows the answer.
I can tell that the answer is probably 16.
I can see where this conversation is going.
This child (young woman) wants her nose pierced.
It caused a ridiculous fight last week with her sister. )”You are never going to get your belly button pierced, mom wont even let me get my nose pierced!” “She will too!” “Will not!” “Will too!” -Scramble-push- insert image of teenage girls fighting here…)
“It’s sixteen!” she can barely contain herself.
“Yay! Too bad I just bought tickets, you are going to move in with your father tomorrow, consent age is 18 in California!”.
“Mom!” she smiles, she knows she’s got me.
Insert long-winded speech about appearance and how other people still judge based on what you look like and wear.
“I can always take it out if I change my mind and want to be a bank CEO” she says confidently.
“Fine, you win, when shall we get it done?”.
“Yes, we. If you get it done, underage (in my book) then it is my parental responsiblity to get it done with you. It would be sooo fun. You and I matching nose piercings. If you do it before 18, I’ll do it.”
“MOOOOM! OH man, you would tooo, you’re good at this…”
I guess the next few months will prove how good…