Don't Sweat the Small Stuff

Good advice, really. But why is so hard to tell, what is small stuff, sometimes? I mean, does it matter in the long term if the kids insist on wearing crazy clothes...not immoral or immodest, just goofy looking? Will the Earth stop spinning on its axis if dinner is late, or taken from the freezer and contains enough preservatives to keep it fresh until Judgment day?

Sure we all have minimum standards in life to meet, but when we, or our kids, fall short, why do we get so worked up?

Not that I have ever over-reacted. Ahem. I'm sort of waiting to be struck down for that whopper. In my own defense, I think it is genetic. There are quite a few panic-ers in my family tree. OK, so I am a panic first, laugh about it later sort of person. While I was still in the Air Force I had the great fortune of listening to a speech by a general. Sadly his name escapes me, but his message really struck home.

He said, "You can only throw yourself in front of one train. So pick your train wisely." Brilliant. As adults we have learned that people who cry wolf over every tiny thing seldom get paid much attention over anything. So if you find a cause worth fighting for, fight to the last, but let the little stuff go. "Pick your train" has become our family mantra.

This why there is a mountain of laundry that is taller than me in by the machine. But I'm OK with it. This is not a disaster. Now to just convince Hubby that underwear is over-rated...