I’m learning that love trumps my idealistic expectations. Being perfect is a myth. God continues to chip away at this antagonist and He’s using Renie to do it. We turned Renie’s expansive kitchen into a salon the afternoon we decided to color each other’s hair. The teen daughter got into the act and set up all her nail supplies on the kitchen table with choices of bright colors and designs. I am going to market this! I wondered how to section Renie’s long curly locks and asked: “Renie, how am I going to color your roots?” She hunted in drawers until she found two clothespins to suffice. Funny thing is, they worked! I relaxed when her daughter soaked my hands in warm sudsy water and I closed my eyes. I should have kept them closed. Renie especially should have kept hers closed when her grown up baby girl knocked over the polish remover spilling Acetone all over the table. I sigh and think to ...