Third Time's A Charm

Today, I sat squeezing the life out of my husband's hand as a scary lady held a gun to my head. It was loaded, not with bullets, but with 14 carat gold! I got my ears pierced, finally. My ears and I have not always seen eye to eye (yes, my ears have eyes, and a smart mouth, if you must know). They tend to resist change, and boy, they sure are snarky about it (snarky, it's a word...google it). We've been down this road before. At age ten, the first traumatic piercing episode occured, and my ears threw a temper tantrum that would make Little House of the Prairie's Nellie Olsen seem like a saint. The whole nightmare resulted in the skin of my ears growing over the backs of the earrings in a record amount of time. I had to get the earrings surgically removed. About four years ago, I tried again, but alas, my ears won round two as well. After eight weeks of meticulously rotating and cleaning my earrings, the first night I removed them, the holes were closed by morning.

On a bit of a spontaneous whim tonight at Walmart, I decided to give it another go. I'm sure William will regain full use of his hand in a few days (childbirth should be interesting). Anyway, about 24 years overdue, I finally have my ears pierced and hopefully they will stay that way! So, when my birthday and Christmas roll around, know that I have 24 years worth of earrings to catch up on!