My 13th birthday cake |
The nice thing about not knowing I was going to have my ears pierced is I didn’t really have a lot of time to get all worked up. I mean, I was definitely nervous but not outrageously so. I sat there quietly as the lady marked my earlobes and boom! My ears were pierced.
But there was a problem . . . you see, my ears are shaped differently, especially my earlobes. The lady had centered each hole in the middle of the lobe, but the earrings weren’t level on the sides of my head. After we got home, Mom realized that one earring was distinctly lower than the other. So she proposed that we take out one of the earrings, let the hole regrow for a week and then have Dad re-pierce that ear in the correct spot.
I did not want to do that, I can tell you. But I also didn’t want to have earrings that were never level and would always look wrong for the rest of my life. So I agreed, we took out the earring, and then I waited and got super nervous as the end of the week approached.
I believe I did well when Dad re-pierced my ear, but that may be a nice revision of history on my part. Regardless, today my earrings hang where they should even with my mismatched earlobes.
2 comments:
i'm both horrified and amused that your Dad re-did the ear.
Well he's a retired MD who grew up on a farm--he also always neutered our male cats. Guess that's the practical side of him.
Post a Comment