The year was 1996, and fresh out of Tech College I landed a cushy job as a Maintenance Mechanic at a local Potato Chip Factory. Maintenance Mechanics by the way, make some tall cash and earn it about 30% of the time. The rest of the time is just piddly work. I'm digressing here.... My beloved Packers made it to the Superbowl!! I felt that this endeavor was enough to warrant a Father-Daughter tattoo. I was ready, willing and able to pay for Dad and I to get a tattoo of the Packer Helmet + 'Superbowl Champs 1996' written underneath on our upper arms. I had made the appointment. My Dad, he chickened out. He called and said, "Bren, I don't want the tattoo. Spend your money on something worthwhile." Oh GEEZ Dad! COME ON!!! So I did what he said, and I am left tattoo-less. Fast forward to 2011. Here we are at the brink of another Packer trip to the Superbowl (BTW, if that's got some trademark infringement thing going on if I say it, I'm sorry. The Bowl...
there lives a woman with knitting needles of fire.