Dear Kiddos, It was your dad’s idea. He felt like I needed a helper because we started a ministry to college freshmen. For nine months at a time. In Mexico. You didn’t know this when you cuties were up thrice a night, attempting tricks on rusty bars, absorbing a second language, taking in avocados, trying to find a friend, and learning to walk, but those students in our ministry required hours and hours of our time. And so did you. In our younger years your dad repeatedly joked about moving to Mexico, always ending it with the promise of a housekeeper. Didn’t sound like much of a deal to me; I…