As I recall, even though we were surviving on the living of a seminary teacher, Dad wasn't too crazy about sloppy clothes.
I think we were living in Provo, so I would have been about 12 or 13. I came into the room wearing a shirt that had a hole it. I probably had some teenage response when Dad told me to change it, so the next thing I knew, he had put his finger in the hole and completely ripped the entire shirt off my back. I went and put on a shirt that didn't have a hole in it.
Marcia says..." The sloppy clothes thing went for all of us. We had clothes ripped off that had holes in them too. Lol. If our drawers were sloppy he dumped them out on the floor and we had to fold them and put them back neatly. He was stickler for doing things right. I am grateful for those lessons. No shorts , no sleeveless tops. Our dress was to be temple ready long before we actually entered the temple. Such modesty from the get go."
Gotta love a "no-nonsense" Dad.
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