Holes In The Knees

It's been a while. I know.

I'd like to say I have a good excuse, but I really don't. The best thing I can come up with is that my brain has holes in the knees of its pants.

Yep. Holes.

I will explain my weirdness.

In folding my laundry the other day, I realized that every pair of my boys' jeans-- the same jeans that were perfect and new in August-- now has at least one hole in the knees.

Herein lies my dilemma. I like my kids to look nice. I buy them relatively nice clothes. I don't let them wear stained t-shirts or even t-shirts with cartoon characters on the front to school. (Well, except for Doug's Mario shirt that I let him wear as a bribe on the days he balks at going.)

And now, they are the kids with holes in their knees. (Consolation: they aren't the only ones.)

My options are to buy new pants (which they will wear for about a month before their uniform changes from jeans and hoodies to basketball shorts and t-shirts), or to just pretend I can't see the holes until it shorts-time.

I'm leaning toward the latter.

This whole attitude is what I mean by holes in my brain-pants.

I'm just done. With. Everything.

I have reached that point where something has to give soon because I'm half-passed thread-bare. There has been too much work, church stuff, sickness, messes, school crap and cold. I have reached the limit.

My friends think I've become a hermit. My kids are tip-toeing around me. My husband sent me flowers in an attempt to cheer me up.

I'm ready for a good spring clean and fixer-up. I'm not talking about patching the holes.

I'm talking about throwing out the brain-pants for a brand new pair of Capris. Or maybe some Nike cycling shorts.

Bring on the flippin' sun already!!!