My granddaughter and I had a special bonding experience last week. We both got our ears pierced for the first time.

Yes, you read that correctly — first time for Kaia, who is 8 years old. And first time for Nana, who is, well, older than Kaia.

Kaia had been told she could have her ears pierced a year ago when she turned 7, but she wasn’t quite ready then.

This year she announced she wanted to do it.

Maybe the change of heart stemmed from a little peer pressure — seems third-grade girls and boys are including ear bling in their wardrobes these days.

Or, with all the COVID vaccines these kids have had the past couple of years, what’s a couple more jabs?

In any event, when Kaia told me her plan, I blurted out: “Ooh, I’ll get my ears pierced, too. We can do it together.”

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew it was too late to take them back. I think my daughter, Marisa (Kaia’s mom), was checking the floor for her jaw. I’m pretty sure she never expected me to complete this right of passage.

Natalie, a bubbly technician at Rowan, an earring parlor in Boulder, Colorado, that is run by registered nurses, must have asked me two or three times if I was sure this was really my first piercing.

Ever the nerd (and I say that with the utmost love and admiration), Kaia’s dad did a quick Google search (or whatever search engine 40-somethings use these days; I just saw an article that claims Google is now just for old people) to find out what percentage of women have pierced ears.

Apparently, it is upwards of 80 percent. Until Friday, I was not part of that statistic.

I’m not sure why I never got my ears pierced before. As I told anyone who asked, “I have enough holes in my head.”

Also, for me, having pierced ears wasn’t necessary to wear great earrings and make a fashion statement.

My mother (also a non-piercer; maybe it’s an inherited trait) left me her eclectic collection of clip-ons and screw-backs.

And over the years, I’ve crafted my own earrings using colorful store-bought beads, or I’ve made them out of clay in pottery class at SBCC’s School of Extended Learning.

I’ve also acquired myriad pairs of vintage clip-ons rummaging around thrift shops and antique stores both in Santa Barbara and around the world. Earrings of any type make great travel souvenirs — they’re relatively inexpensive and add no weight to your suitcase.

It’s not hard to find earring backs for unpierced ears at stores like Michael’s or Jo-Ann’s, or online, and it’s easy to change out the backings with a couple of jump rings and a small pliers.

Anyway, back to my piercing experience. Contrary to our original plan, in which I would be the guinea pig and go first, Kaia hopped in the chair ahead of me, choosing the quicker option using a device that pierces the ear and inserts the earring all in one motion.

Holding her mom’s hand, she bravely sat still, flinching for just a split-second when the technician squeezed the trigger. Kaia, who is on a Boulder swim team, now has two tiny gold dolphins happily leaping across her ear lobes.

I went for the needle-insert procedure, which hurts a bit more initially but supposedly heals faster.

The process uses a hollow needle that literally pushes out a chunk of tissue, which is then replaced by the earring and backing. I selected two tiny sparkly cubic zirconias to fill the holes.

We were both instructed to leave the earrings in for six weeks before changing them, and to sanitize them a couple of times a day with a spray solution we were given.

For me and Kaia, the hardest part of the whole ordeal was making sure the holes in our ears would be evenly placed prior to the procedure.

Natalie used black marker to make a dot where the piercings would go. Then, everyone — six of us in total, including my husband Phil (the official event photographer), our two daughters Marisa and Elizabeth, granddaughter Morgan, and Kaia’s dad Ryan) — weighed in on whether the dots were in the right place on my ears and Kaia’s.

“Too high; too low; a little to the right; no, to the left …”

Natalie was trying really hard to keep her perpetual smile in place. “Remember,” she said. “Your ears are siblings, not twins.”

After the big event, my family (without asking for my permission, BTW) put up a post-piercing photo of me on Facebook, to which Linda, one of my dear friends from high school, responded:

“Oh wow! Finally! I think you went with me (to the doctor) when I got mine pierced at 16!”

I’m pretty sure Linda is correct about that.

I also recall assisting at other less clinical piercing procedures in my college dormitory — “sterilizing” needles with matches or cigarette lighters; pressing ice cubes against throbbing ear lobes; and holding the hands of my braver-than-me dorm-mates.

Now, as I held tightly to the hands of my two young granddaughters, I finally joined the ranks of my pierced peers.

And, Kaia and I each received a Certificate of Bravery!