Birdie has wanted a tattoo since she was first strong enough to pry the cap off a Sharpie marker. Soon, she will be old enough to get one that is as large and vividly colorful as her heart desires. My hope is that the tattoo will be petite and modestly colored. I'll settle for anything that looks like it couldn't be done in prison and was etched with a clean needle. And Birdie, the young adult, will do whatever she wants. If I don't think about it too hard, I'm fine with the tattoo. It's the eventual nostril-piercing I worry most about, as I'm partly to blame. I should never have allowed Daisy and Birdie in the same room at the same time. They were in the kitchen, and in a fit of misjudgment, I said, "Oh my God, you have the same nose!" (Yes, it was an odd moment to call upon God.) Their heads snapped toward each other and they looked relieved. Apparently, they liked what they saw. A few days later, Daisy and Birdie were once again in the kitchen, this time I wasn't there, but Daisy's friends were. By the end of the evening, Daisy had her right nostril pierced. As did a Daisy friend. I don't know how long Daisy teetered on the brink of "Should I do it?" But Daisy likes to teeter, and I'm certain Birdie helped push her over the edge. As Daisy discovered, in a loud sort of way, I don't like the Daisy nose pierced. But now that I've calmed down, I admit, it is kind of cute. For Birdie, I suspect, the Daisy nostril is one trial run complete with the real nose to follow.
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