Each time I see this image by Mo Manning, I see my parents. Although my mother never wore her hair in such a fashion and at no time would she put her pocketbook in a position where a purse-snatcher could grab it and go, these are my folks, devoted to the end. Oh sure, they had their moments of non-marital bliss. When they had a tiff, my dad, being the gentleman that he was, would very graciously remove himself to his workshop in the basement and build a birdhouse. He averaged about three or four birdhouses a day.