I went out to eat with my family on Saturday for my grandma's birthday. Lyndsay and I were sitting on opposite ends of the table but I could tell she was spinning some excellent story. I was too busy listening to the other end of the tables conversation about scars. Suddenly, I heard her little voice above all others saying the following: Yeah, he does have it pierced...and he's Aunt Holly's pastor!

The entire table...no...the entire Big Boy...stopped short and looked at me. "Is that true, Holly?" my step-father asked. "Umm...that depends on what she said he has pierced."

"His eye-brow."

"Oh...that...well...yeah...my pastor's eyebrow is pierced." Everyone kind of stared at me for a minute. "What's the big deal?" I asked. "Tattoos, piercings, polka dot hair...God cares about your heart." I knew they were still sitting there slightly judging me so I blurted "in the summer he teaches barefoot."

My family is officially never coming to Riverview.