My son has found the sweet mystery of life and this weekend I had dinner with her parents. The key to an enjoyable evening are manners and simple clothes. Problem is, most of my clothes have teeny weeny spots of old paintings on them. Some of them are not so teeny weeny. Some of the spots are big and blobby. I was fairly sure before I left for dinner that I had vetted the clothes I would be wearing that night. Maybe not. The roast was succulent, the veggies were savory, the pie was delightful. At some point in the evening, I could feel my son gently picking at my shoulder. What he needed was a sandblaster. Oh well. Love conquers all.