When I was seven years old, my mom pierced my ears. I assume it involved sticking a potato behind my ear and shoving a giant needle through the lobe.

When I was in high school, I decided (OK, popular trends decided) that it would be cool to have my ears triple-pierced. (It was the mid-to-late 90s.) Once again, I turned to mom. (She also cut my hair until I went away to college … and probably even then too, when I came home on breaks.)

She acquired the necessary ear-piercing supplies via the hospital. (I’m certain she purchased them in the pharmacy.) When the time came, I plopped on the toilet in her bathroom, and she applied some gel to my lobes.

A conversation that I only assume happened:

Me: What’s that?
Mom: It’s what we use to numb the baby boys before circumcision.
Me: …. OK.

Mom jabs needle into my ear.

Mom: What?

Needless to say … my ears were not numb. Somehow, she went through with piercing the other three holes.

However, after the triple piercing was done, we realized the holes were a bit too close together. So, we let them close up a little, and a few weeks later, my mom repierced them. This time she tried a different tactic. With more stuff “from the hospital.”

Another conversation that I only assume happened:

Me: Why do you have a syringe?
Mom: I’m going to give you a shot in the ears to numb them this time.
Me: This better work.

Mom does stuff to my ear.

Mom: Do you feel that?
Me: Feel what?
Mom: You have a giant needle in your earlobe.
Me: Oh. No. Cool.

And about 10 years later I decided triple pierced ears were no longer my thing, and those holes have since closed up.

Screen shot 2013-12-10 at 7.37.40 PM

For the record, she also pierced her own cartilage (helix). 


There are actually many other reasons why I won’t circumcise my non-existent sons. But I know that is a personal decision for every parent, so I’ll keep all of that to myself. (At least for now.)