The other day I was on deck trying to sort out my musty v-berth cushions when one of my dock neighbors at the marina stopped by for a chat. He took one look at me and said, "Hey, watch out, you've got a bunch of grease on your arm." I looked down and didn't see anything. It was probably the only place on my body that wasn't covered with grime. Then I realized that he was looking at my birthmark.
When he realized his mistake, he kind of got a little embarrassed (he's such a sweetie). I'm not sure if he was embarrassed because he mistook my birthmark for grease or if he was embarrassed for pointing out my birthmark. Some folks aren't too happy about having birthmarks. Personally, I love mine. I think the one on my arm looks like a deserted island. What do you think?
I told my dock neighbor my theory. "One of these days, when Scott and I are out sailing, we're going to find the island that matches my birthmark and we're going to lay claim! The birthmark proves its mine!" He chuckled and said that what would make it even better was if we found buried treasure on our island. Then he had brilliant idea - get a tattoo for X marks the spot on my birthmark.
I was thinking I could go for something like this.
I can only imagine the look of horror on Scott's face as he reads this blog post and worries that I'm actually going to go through with this whole tattoo thing while he's away. And he thought the fabric I've picked out for curtains and throw pillows was awful. Wait until he sees my tattoo. That'll teach him for being gone so long.
On another note, I'm heading off to Portland today to visit my family. I think we're making our way up to Washington State this weekend to look for Bigfoot. Keep an eye out on our Facebook page, I'll post a picture of Bigfoot if we spot him.
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