Ear ye, ear ye

I see no reason to poke a couple of holes in perfectly good flesh.

My daughter, and apparently the rest of the planet, disagrees.

She just turned 10, and she decided she really, really, really, really - no really - wanted her ears pierced. I have been against this since day one, as I am a father, and it should be in my nature to be against anyone poking holes in my children.

My wife and I had discussed the ear piercing timeline on numerous occasions. My wife said she was comfortable somewhere around 10ish. I said I was comfortable some time around when the earth crashed into the sun. Don't get me wrong: I'm not anti-piercing. I'm just anti-piercing when it comes to my daughter.

So on her 10th birthday, we had this conversation:

ALLIE: Daddy, I'm going to do something today that is going to make you mad.

ME: You're going to cheer for Auburn?

ALLIE: Daddy, I'm getting my ears pierced today.

ME: Roll Tide. And no.

She stared at me for a second, contemplating whether to go with sad-daddy's-little-girl eyes or foot-stomping abject defiance. She went with the prior. "It's up to your mother," I said.

A short while later, we were in Claire's, which is the single greatest store in the history of 10-year-old-kind. If they were to make a Claire's equivalent for me, it would be called The Bama Football, Bacon, Beer and Baywatch Store.

Despite her resoluteness in wanting her ears pierced, she showed some signs of nervousness. And by signs of nervousness, I mean she said, "OK, I don't want my ears pierced." Then a split second later, "OK, I do." I, of course, helped by saying things such as, "They should be done heating up the rusty pen they use to poke your ear."

Ha! Of course I didn't say that. I would never have done that. My wife was in earshot.

Allie climbed into the chair, and the woman came over to prep her ears. She had picked out a lovely little set of earrings in her birthstone, which is whatever August's birthstone is. The woman cleaned Allie's ears with a little alcohol wipe, and then marked each ear with a purple dot.

"It's to help her aim when she gets a running start," I assured Allie.

The woman then took a little white gunlike thing and told Allie that she just had to check one more thing on her ear and to hold still while she just looked and CLICK!

Allie had a startled look. "Wait, what..."

The woman said, "Hang on..."

Other ear. CLICK!

"Wait, did you... Ow!!!"

And, just like that, ears were pierced. Allie looked at the woman, who handed her a mirror. "See?" she said. And there they were - pierced ears. She said it hurt a little bit, but the look on her face when she stared at her earrings showed that it was worth it.

She is now taking part in a detailed ear care regimen that involves cleaning and turning the earrings and commenting every 11 minutes that her ears are pierced. She also has found out that, when you have newly pierced ears that you are very proud of, your little brother will repeatedly say, "Allie, your earrings fell out." And every time she takes the bait.

So despite my reluctance to let her get her ears pierced, it makes me happy to see how happy it makes her. She is so proud of them, and it does make her feel quite grown up. In hindsight, I'm glad she got them pierced. And, as I look forward, I think I'm good with additional piercings. As soon as the earth crashes into the sun.