The rules are, there are no rules.

January 3rd, the return to school, otherwise known as the return of the return of silence. With school, comes a never-ending battle I like to call the Dress Code Wars, Sarcastic Mom Edition.

I start nearly every school day here with, “Do you have a shirt on under that”, “Go put on real pants” or my personal favorite, “Go back upstairs and find the bottom half of your shirt.” All of these phrases are returned with a teenage groans and drooping shoulders. Occasionally they are moved to speech and let out, “MOMMMMM!!!” before they return to the closet to try again. When I’m really lucky, someone flings themselves to the floor as if a full layer of clothing makes them a social leper. I’m ruining lives over here, friends.

Am I the only one enforcing this? I sometimes wonder why I even bother, and then I’m reminded how much fun I have trying to raise young ladies, and figure why stop that fun now? HA HA. I mean last year, Daytime Emmy Nominee wore a certain pair of shorts to school fairly frequently. Would I have picked them? Ummm nope. Were they worthy of a dress code violation? Likely. That said she didn’t get smacked with one until the last two weeks of school. Why? Because enforcement is sporadic if not near non-existent.

I asked the Dean of Students about it and I’m told he is constantly trying to cover students up. Don’t get me wrong, the Dean is a great guy. I like talking to him, and probably talk to him more than any parent or guardian at the High School. (If I sent Christmas cards, he’d be getting one from our house.) However, the drop off line in front of the local high school is basically a fashion show, turned parade, of not much more than fabric napkins. I know this is a problem all over. Another school actually released a diagram this school year to go over what was acceptable and what was not. That said, I have zero idea if it is working for them. What I do know is that rules not enforced are ignored. I feel like if someone, (besides my crazy self over here), were enforcing it, maybe it wouldn’t be such a problem? I know. Crazy. For the record here, I am probably the least prude-like person I know. Yes. Really.

I digress… today started with the old stand by, “Go find real pants.” I didn’t even have to tell her to find the bottom half of her shirt. She must have just felt it running though my head because after the groan, she returned wearing somewhat real clothes. By somewhat, I’m referring to the pants we all pay a stupid amount of money for that are shredded to basically shorts. I’ve mostly decided to pick my battles there and I’m taking it as a win. I am so proud of something so trivial, I can’t even begin to express it. Victory is mine!