Yesterday, Tommy came downstairs wearing the oldest, rattiest pair of jeans he owns.  There’s a hole in one knee, and the other knee is just a big white patch of strings holding on for dear life.  The cuffs of each leg are nearly completely frayed, and one is shredded completely at the seam.  I don’t particularly care if he wears these jeans until they literally turn into dust, as long as he doesn’t wear them to school or anywhere important, so I didn’t say anything to him about them and just went about making my protein drink in the wheat grass juicer.