Seriously...
Okay so I always have a hoodie or long sleeve shirt on around my grandparents to hide my tattoos cause theyre like 90 and jewish and crazy. I've been good at it for years now. Regardless of how in the way sleeves are or how much shit gets all over my them from getting dropped into things on the dinner table, I never forget and roll my sleeves up accidentally. Well my grandparents are staying over in case tomorrow there is a mandatory evacuation for people that live close to the beach cause of the hurricane. They were IN BED being old and going to fucking sleep. I go downstairs and throw my laundry in, including the jacket I was wearing after I stood infront of the machine for 10 minutes arguing with myself over whether to leave it on or not. So I'm sitting on the computer waiting to put them in the dryer and all of a sudden I hear movement and my grandpa is like "Can you look up bladder cancer on the internet for me?"
I had 90 cows in that second. So hes on the stairs and making his way down and I'm like holy shit, this is the end... So he sits RIGHT next to me and goes "Are those tattoos on your arms?" So I sort of muttered yes without looking at him or making a big deal, and he said "Are they removable?"
So I said...... Yes. Technically, I'm not lying. If he had asked if they were washable, I would've been lying. And then he went on to tell me how they used to put the fake ones on their hands when he was younger and it was over.
There was no yelling, no "youll never be buried in a jewish cemetery" talk, no further questions. I don't think he believed my answer, I think he knows I'm full of shit and is just the coolest 88 year old to ever walk the earth. My mom screams every time I come home with something new and he has handled this and all of the piercings I used to have so well. Man he rules. My grandpa is my hero.
I had 90 cows in that second. So hes on the stairs and making his way down and I'm like holy shit, this is the end... So he sits RIGHT next to me and goes "Are those tattoos on your arms?" So I sort of muttered yes without looking at him or making a big deal, and he said "Are they removable?"
So I said...... Yes. Technically, I'm not lying. If he had asked if they were washable, I would've been lying. And then he went on to tell me how they used to put the fake ones on their hands when he was younger and it was over.
There was no yelling, no "youll never be buried in a jewish cemetery" talk, no further questions. I don't think he believed my answer, I think he knows I'm full of shit and is just the coolest 88 year old to ever walk the earth. My mom screams every time I come home with something new and he has handled this and all of the piercings I used to have so well. Man he rules. My grandpa is my hero.