This is Syrena.
This is her instrument of choice.
Okay, maybe it isn't really her choice.
But last week she reached an important milestone: she played her first hymn.
In our family, there is a special reward for those who can play a hymn: we stick a needle through their ear.
I was 28 when I first got my ears pierced. Although, just for the record, I played my first hymn long before then. We didn't have the ear-piercing reward in my family. If we had, perhaps I would be a much more accomplished pianist.
But regardless of my excuses of why I never became talented at piano, this was a great accomplishment for Syrena and a wonderful moment for us all to celebrate.
We went to Claire's first, but the woman there had not only her ears pierced,
but her lips,
and between her eyes.
Scott told me later that that just proves that she is good at what she does. I would have taken a photo of her for the blog, but I think her image might have shattered my camera.
Suffice it to say, Syrena opted to go with the nice grandmotherly looking woman at the Walmart jewelry counter.
How much will it hurt? Syrena asked me.
Worse than a shot, I said.
Worse than a broken arm, I said.
Worse than childbirth, I said.
Will you pray for me?
Yes, I said.
Of course not, I said.
This is what Dan thought of the whole ordeal.
Which is good, since I will never take him to get his ears pierced.
No matter how many hymns he can play.