Like Mike

A few minutes ago I was cleaning out our junk drawer and came across a sheet of temporary tattoos. I think they came with a kid's meal or in a box of cereal. At any rate, I was surprised to find them. I called Sam into the kitchen and cut out a green lightning bolt tattoo.

I pressed the tattoo on his forearm. The directions said to hold it for at least 30 seconds, so we sang a few rounds of the alphabet. Then I pulled off the paper and showed Sam his new ink.

Sam was not happy. He wrinkled his nose and whimpered. He touched it gingerly and then tried to rub it off. It didn't go anywhere, and Sam looked like he was going to cry. I felt really bad.

I had a sudden inspiration. Using a cheerful voice, I said, "Sam, you have a tattoo just like Uncle Mike!" Sam's eyes widened and he stopped whimpering. I continued, "Do you like having a tattoo like Uncle Mike?" Sam nodded and smiled at the lightning bolt. "Ooooh," he whispered.

He is now proudly marching around, looking down at his arm every few seconds to make sure it is still there. Uncle Mike would be proud!