Tiffani had said that she’d gotten tattoos. “Tats”, she said. I hadn’t seen them yet. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I’d always thought getting tattoos to be a strange thing to do. I mean, you can’t just erase them. But Tiffani wasn’t the least bit embarrassed about them.
The Memorial Day picnic was at Grammy and Gramp’s this year. They have the big picnic tables out back, under the pine trees. There’s a creek in the grove that makes a good swimming hole. Grammy and Gramp can be a bit old-fashioned at times. I wasn’t sure how they’d take to Tiffani’s ‘tats’. I was actually hoping for a cloudy day.
The day was sunny and bright. The picnic was great. Uncle Bill and Uncle Tom turned out great burgers. Aunt Thelma’s cole slaw was a hit, as it always was.
Midway through the afternoon, the youngsters of the clan decided to go swimming in the creek. They went up to the house to change into their suits. They filed by on the way to the creek. It was as bad as I’d feared. There was a cardinal on her right ankle, and a small bluebird just above her knee. No one said anything. Maybe no one saw them. Grammy and Gramp were serving their spiked lemonade. I went over for a glass. Gramp said, as he handed me my glass, “That Tiffani of yours is getting to be a big girl.”
Grammy said with her usual aplomb "I saw a Red bird and a Blue bird on the same limb.”
I sprayed lemonade out my nose.
“See” said Grammy, pointing to the pine. There were a cardinal and a blue bird there.
“Almost as nice as the ones on Tiffani’s limb”, said Gramp.
“Father, we don’t talk about such things in polite company”, said Grammy. And that was the last I heard from either of them about Tiffani’s ‘tats’.