Mike would be the first to say, "Don't be making me out to be a saint or nothing....cause I'm not!" In fact, I believe he did say those words, verbatim.
Saints don't always look like saints, use perfect grammar, or wear an embroidered sash or turban. Sometimes they use socially unacceptable or politically incorrect phrases. Sometimes they wear overalls and braid their hair; sometimes they dress in fashionable shoes and have bleached hair, fake eyelashes and tattoos. Sometimes they are homeless, wearing pink sunglasses, and they yell out, "Share the love!"--like the woman we just talked to on the street. You never can tell, they're everywhere.
But in my effort to be a better person, I try to emulate good qualities when I see them. Like tonight: At Earl Abel's--Donald Trump was on TV and I didn't say one negative thing!
Mike and I are laughing at our precious next-door neighbor, 4-year-old Makkin, who speaks in a very slow cadence: "Rememmmmber when you brought MooooooJoooooo to our house?"
Probably all children are saints. They don't hold it against a dog if he pees on the brand new wood floor. They hardly hold anything against anybody.
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