When I was in my teens, my parents allowed me to pierce my ears.
It happened in an earring shop, with a piercing gun and surgical steel studs. The
piercing didn’t hurt much, but I went home with an awful headache. Years later, my
college roommates talked me into a second set of piercings. They used two ice
cubes and a darning needle. Zero stars; do not recommend. A few years after that, my firstborn taught me why new moms don’t wear hoop earrings. Fast forward a few more years: I learned
about nickel allergies and had to toss more than half my jewelry box. When my
daughter was a year old, I had her ears pierced. I knew she’d want to wear
bling, and wouldn’t be able to keep up with the hygiene. I was wrong on both
counts. These days, she never wears earrings. I’ve still got a few of mine, in
case I’m ever in the mood. Happy “Pierce Your Ears” Day!
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