Juice Box Kids.

Jeremy and I were very drunk the first night of our honeymoon. Sun, swim-up bar, daiquiris. It was magical. And so we sat at the swim-up bar, slurring our speech, and discussed our love. And world peace, you know, stuff like that.

We decided, then and there, that dangit, we want tattoos! And we want them to match! And we want to forever emblazon our love for each other upon our young bodies! Because we are newlyweds! And we're in love! And this is a lot of exclamation points!

So when we returned from Riviera Maya, we went straight to the tattoo shop, sober, with every intention of guaranteeing that we can never get divorced. Because what would we do with JBK then?

And so we did:

Nevermind Jeremy's faded tattoo. It still needs retouching. Also nevermind the ointment on mine; it's still healing from its retouching.

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