A short story about leaving the house

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Our friend Amy Krouse Rosenthal passed away a year ago today and I think about her a lot, especially when I feel a little bored and then ashamed of feeling bored because at least I'm alive. Often when I feel bored it's because I work from my kitchen all day and then spend my evening in said kitchen as well. I thought "What would Amy say to me?" and realized that she'd suggest that if I'm looking for stories, I wouldn't get them by sitting in my kitchen all the time. So I try to get out of the house more when possible, to meet people and look around and get ideas for stories. 

Today after an appointment, even though I wanted to rush home and get to work, I made a detour at a jewelry store to find a new chain for a necklace. While the sales lady was getting some from the back I heard a woman about my mom's age on the phone saying "No, no. I don't like it. I don't want to hear about it. I'm not happy about this." I wondered who she was chewing out. Then she hung up and announced to everyone standing nearby, "I don't know why my son is telling me about his new tattoo when he knows I don't approve." 

I jokingly said "Why is he even telling you about the tattoo? Can't he just hide it from you?" Then the woman turned to me and pointed to her eyes. I thought she told me he was going to get a teardrop tattoo. Instead, she said, "He thinks he can get a tattoo just because I got eyeliner tattooed on -- twenty-five years ago," as if the fact that she did it 25 years ago negates the fact that she got a tattoo on her face, right next to her eyeballs. 

I didn't say anything but to me if your mom gets her face tattooed, she really can't say anything about you getting a tattoo. (FWIW I told my mom this story and she took the side of the lady in the store.)

Anyway, Amy was right, that is definitely a story I would have never have gotten if I'd never left the house.