My Standard

As I was working on my much neglected blog tonight I found this draft.  This needs to be published for my posterity.  Maybe they will have the same genes I do.

My Standard
I have one. (A standard that is.)

After all the mornings I sent my chidren to school in dirty clothes, torn knees, mismatched socks, turkey tails and tangles... you name it and as some point or another my kids have left the house with any number of these "situations". (Even dirty socks - I thought I already had my limits there, but after smelling my children's feet after school the other day I guess I was wrong about that.)

I found my limitation (only one so far) this morning

Josh came downstairs dressed in these:

It's hard to tell in this picture, but the hem on these pants is long gone, they've been ripped to shreds.  Both knees are completely torn out.  The legs are so worn you can actually see through them in parts.  To top it off, they are about an inch too short for Josh.  I guess I have to draw the line there.  No. Way.

So now you have it, when your pants are ripped and worn beyond recognizing what they are, AND they are too small, you can't wear them. 

There.  I have a standard.