Sure, I have my Minimum Standards Days. Those are the days when I just get the bare minimum of work done in order to say that "we've managed". Each mum has a different minimum standard. For me, I need to keep everyone fed and clothed, and also relatively happy. This means I only do Subsistence Housework, I try to maintain an even temper for at least 85% of the day, and most importantly, I aim to get through the day without seeing BLOOD or FLAMES.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdowsAU0BPnUFjq2mE3VRSlDP-uG_etr1ogPrzcgaVcTl4HDC64s0a_CHGsuIF5x0JVk4ZJdazj60oQQyjahd7HaGP8BQs0PLjzcFyTyybqoOq9fZI4lvWtj8RytabkzpsEu64HujCrOyo/s400/automotivator+SUCCESS.jpg)
But I have recently had a headcold and therefore this week has been a Minimum Standards Week. It's been a nightmare, making me wonder how I would ever cope if I was sicker than I have been. Grocery shopping was a trial as both Chubbity Bubbity and Sonny Ma-Jiminy were Little Pressure Cookers of Fury by the time we got to the checkouts. At least Sonny Ma-Jiminy could be re-directed from his tantrum: he was quite happy to go and "pat the plastic dog" (you know - the Guide Dogs donation bin). But Chubbity Bubbity cried and screamed while I put my groceries on the checkout and paid for them.
As I walked away, I realised that the lady behind the checkout DIDN'T say, "Have a nice day," which was very unusual. It was as if she knew that I wasn't going to anyway.
But at least I got through the day without seeing blood or flames!