My 87-year-old Grandma wants me to make an appointment for her to get a tattoo because she thinks the ones on my arms are so “neat” (had to use her awesome adjective here). Naturally she wants an Americana a la Sailor Jerry heart with arrow with her husband and best friend’s name written in it: “Bud,” on her forearm. He passed away this year after 60 some years of marriage. Even if when I tell her how painful it will be she backs out, she will still rock the sharpie fake tattoo of this I’ve given her. She is the neatest lady I know (to use her words again).