I knew something was up when Z-man came in the door facing backwards.
That is not normal.
Neither was the cute little dos-si-dos he did as he maneuvered himself toward the stairs without actually turning to face me.
"Um," I said, showing off my college education with my sparkling repartee. "What is going on? Turn around."
So he did.
A little sheepishly, I might add.
And there it was: a tiny, shiny stud stuck through the right side of his lower lip.
It was all I could do to keep my eyes from doing a Roo-like spin around their sockets.
"Why?" I asked, once again calling on my massive vocabulary.
"I've wanted to do it for awhile" was the best he could come up with.
(I have no pictures yet because it's hard to get him to pose, but have no fear. It'll happen.)
The funny thing is, I didn't have my contacts or my glasses on, and if he hadn't come through the door hind-end first, I probably wouldn't have even noticed. It's that delicate and small.
I have explained my lack of thrilled'ness with facial piercings before when J-bear rammed what looks for all the world like a roofing nail through her lip.
So yeah. I'm unthrilled once again.
At least he doesn't have a tattoo to go with it.