He is Perfect...
For as long as I can remember, I have chased perfection. When I was younger, if I started coloring outside the lines, I needed a brand new sheet of paper. However, I never crumpled the old piece of paper before I threw it in the trash. That wasn't perfect. I may have neatly folded it before gently placing it in the trash. The only way to color a perfect picture was with perfectly sharpened crayons. When the very large crayon box with the sharpener on the back hit the store shelves, I know I heard an angel army sing a heavenly melody through every aisle of the store. That sharpener was made for me. I carried this perfectionism throughout my childhood. I always played school with my younger sister, and I just had to be the teacher every single time. I'm pretty sure I was the perfect teacher. I'm certain Mandy was not the perfect student, and that's why she always had to go to time out. Perfectionism traveled with me during my 4 years of undergraduate work ...
