My Dearest Mother,
As you very well know, the day is rapidly approaching when your youngest child by fifty five minutes will be considered a legal adult. Yes Mom, on the 18th of April, 2008, I will officially be eighteen years old. On that very day, the law declares that I have full responsibility over myself and my actions. I am granted permission to vote, join the army, go skydiving, heck I could rent dirty movies if I wanted to. So tell me, if the government says it’s allowed, why won’t my own mother let me get a tattoo? Last I heard I was going to be the one living in this body for the rest of my days. You’re always telling me to treat my body like a temple, and quite frankly, I think this temple needs a little decoration. Since this desire was sparked many years ago, you have constantly barked the line, “When you’re eighteen you can destroy your body all you want.” But as the patiently awaited day moves closer by the minute, your typical line has morphed into “If you want someone to pay for college you better not get a tattoo.” Tell me Mom; is that change of heart very fair? Tricking me to think that if I waited long enough I would finally be rewarded is a cruel and hurtful way to treat your child. So I’m writing you this letter to tell you that maybe this great state of Illinois was trying to say something when they lowered the legal age of tattoo recipients in 2006. They were saying, “Grace Ford turns eighteen in two years, and by law, she definitely deserves a tattoo.” So please Mother, you know I’ve never been keen on disobedience, and the threats of disownment are really starting to sting; just let me get some ink.
Hoping for your blessing,
Grace
No comments:
Post a Comment