I promised to tell you all about my incident at my daughter’s preschool last year, and here it is. I’m going to pull photos from various sources to illustrate this in a way that only I can do! (That means sorta pathetic)
It was the year end party where the kids got all their things together for us to lug home, and we brought in all kinds of goodies and drinks. I was having a particularly good time being the butt of all the jokes that the kids were playing and chasing them around the room to peals of laughter. I can’t recall if I was wearing the dreaded capri type pants or if I was wearing something else kind of short, but my ankle tattoo was visible.
Now, before I tell you what happened, let me just explain that I adore Ganesh, the obstacle removing elephant headed God in Hinduism. I’ve always wished I was Indian, loved Indian food, you name it. I was and have been a wannabe for longer than I can remember. One of my besties is Indian. She believes me to be fully insane! LOL
I had never really thought of getting a tattoo before, but woke up after having a dream of Ganesh and knew I needed to have his image on me permanently. Another of my besties found a wiccan woman who was a tattoo artist on a Sunday. I caller her on Monday and was being inked the next Saturday. Left ankle, beautiful work from a post card I’d gotten from India. This, my friends, was probably 1989 or so.
Now let’s jet back to the much closer past, where I’m in my mid forties at my only child’s preschool graduation party in my town, which is now largely Indian. Clearly, this is not an issue for moi. So, on that day – here’s a picture of my emotional state:
Photo credit: Cyn74 from Flickr
This, however was not to last.
A woman was scowling at me. Her daughter was a friend of a kid who had tried to bully my child (4 year olds – seriously??) but I had put the kibosh on that and all was well with the pre-K world. I sat down to take a break from the crazy kids, and she was now glaring at me. Kind of like this:
Credit for the photo: mmmcclendon on Flickr
Now I have nothing against vampires, or angry women or Indians, but being so totally open at that moment, playing with children and truly loving every minute of being there, being aware that my child was proud that I was playing the clown made the realization that she was staring at me with an intense hatred into a sort of Twilight Zone episode. I was not prepared.
I smiled at her. I thought, maybe she’s having a shitty day. Her response? “What do you have on your ankle?” I frowned. I thought there was a bug on me or something, but no. It was Ganesh. “Oh! Ganesh,” I said. And just as I was about to tell her how dearly I love Ganesh, she shouted at me “And how would YOU like it if I had a picture of your Jesus tattooed on my body?”
Being a sensitive person, and as I said, having been in such a wonderful emotional place just seconds before, I kind of stammered. See, I felt like this:
But I said something to the effect of “Well, it’s a free country and since Jesus does not belong to me, and even if I were a Christian, I would certainly have no problem with you having….” But she cut me off. She shrieked at me, said something about “you people”, grabbed her (previously unknown why she was so) miserable child, and left.
I was shaken to the core. I felt so weak, so beaten up. Ugh.
And then I kind of felt like this:
I stayed for a while longer and played with the kids whose parents couldn’t pick them up early. We had a great time, and I’ve never seen that bitch again. 🙂