Everytime I even mention getting some ink, Mrs. GED will pinch the sheet out of me over and over to replicate how bad it hurts.My mom was never a big fan of tattoos, but she grew to accept them since one of my brothers and I both have them. My other brother is too much of a wussy to get them.
The day I got the one on my shoulder, I was still living at home. I came home from getting the tattoo (road trip to Dallas and back) and went into the bathroom and got a washcloth to cover it. I came out and told her "Mom, can you look at my shoulder, there seems to be something wrong with it." I uncovered the tattoo and she reared back and slapped the holy h8ll out of it. She thought it was a fake tattoo and was screwing with me. The look on her face when she realized it was a real tattoo and how much that hurt was almost worth how much it hurt. We joked about that for many years.