Last Friday I moved into my apartment above Smitty’s Steaks. My mom came too, along with my younger brother and three younger sisters. Six people in an apartment designed for one person comfortably. The eye of a tropical storm out on the coast was more tame. This is why when people ask me how many siblings I have my response is “Too many.”
Eventually things calmed down. My mom went shopping for additional groceries and I was left alone with my five year old sister Callie.
The swelter mid-May heat became unbearable so I took my long sleeve dress shirt off and remained in the black wife beater beneath it.
“How’d you get that?” Callie curiously implied, pointing to the huge tribal dragon tattoo on my left shoulder.
“Um… I don’t know.”
She was unconvinced by my answer. She placed her tiny brown fists on her hips and stared at me sternly.
“Did you go to the tattoo shop?”
How does she even know what a tattoo shop is? I felt a wave of guilt pass over me.
Callie’s little eyebrows furrowed at me like two angry caterpillars before she shouted,
I had no answer, only an endless amount of shame. Being scolded by a five year old about your life decisions will do that to you.
Am I in trouble? Is it too late to get them removed? – Barry