Eying Diego’s miniature blue hands and my indigo-dyed ones I thought, compromise—our hands are not twisting chemicals from these liquid-heavy shirts, they are wringing out compromise. If you are ever to befriend family, that is what it dwindles down to. That and, well, it also helps to read the notation about wearing gloves on tie-dying kits before you send your sister’s kid home with hands like Vishnu's or Smurf fingers, rather.
