Business Ethics

Last night I drove to my mom's to pick up The Boy. Since she picks him up from school most days, one of her bedrooms has been designated "his" room when he's there.

Posted on his shut bedroom door, I read a handmade sign created from lined paper and a black Sharpie:

Tatos 50 (picture cents sign and letters falling off the lines)

My son had launched his own business--handmade tatoos. My poor mother sported two originals on both hands. He apparently strongarmed her for the $1.

When he asked me I told him no way because it would never come off. He replied, “My tattoos are made with WASHABLE marker. Not like the kind I wrote with,” he said as he pointed to his business sign.

I relented. He gave me a deal: the second tat for only five cents. "Because you are my mother," he said (perhaps convincing himself it was OK?).

He lured me with his great pricing structure and lead me to his "shop" by the hand. He sat me down across from him in a chair and he asked what I wanted.
"Surprise me."
"No, mom. Tell me what you want."
"Um. A rainbow."
"I already did one for Grandma. Pick something else."
"I don't know. You choose."
"Mom, you're the customer. Just tell me what you want want. I can do faces, Sox, Cubs. . ."

Knowing his affinity for the Chicago White Sox, I chose that for Tat #1 and for Tat #2, I chose a smiley face.

He was clean, quick, pleasant and efficient -- all good traits for a tattoo artist. Later that night after several hand washings, ghosts of the tats remained on my two hands. Except now they had both faded to murky grey-green blogs instead of the vibrant works of art they once were.

This morning as readied myself in the bathroom, I discovered grey-green blotches around my face and neck--obviously I'd gotten some of the washed-off ink from the night before and inadvertently spread it to my face/neck.

I called my son to me. I flung back my neck exposing the unsightly stain like it were a vampire gouge.

"Look. Just look at this," I moaned. I demanded my money back.
"I'm sorry but since I didn't put the tatoos there, it's not my fault," he said with just enough sarcasm to sully his "apology."

My eyes welled. Hearing my boy say those words made me realize two truths: 1. I definately have to instill a stronger sense of ethics into this kid and 2. if he continues to do business this way in this world, he'll probably make a lot of money.