So resolutions are ridiculous, yep I agree. And yet, I am drawn to them the same way I am drawn to calendars, organizers, to-do lists and anything else that promises to put my life in order (insert creepy Guidance counselor voice-over here). My house is stacked with my failed efforts. Example? I have no less than 3 calendars going at any one time and each time I want to confirm plans I need to check with all the calendars. Um, usually this involves me finding them first though which I can never seem to do so things just get scribbled on the back of receipts and envelopes anyhow. But I digress…so my resolution is to be more helpful. Hence I wrote your resolutions instead. You can thank me later:
To the lady who keeps her car running while waiting to pick up her son at lunchtime, even in nice weather: I hereby resolve you offset your carbon footprint by becoming David Sukuki’s personal barber for one year & eat only recycled food for another three.
To my husband who can only seem to manage to get the empty beer bottles to the cupboard under the sink rather than to actual cupboard we reserve for recycling: I resolve you take out ALL the recycling from now until forever. Oh wait, you already do this…which is why you rock!
To the publisher looking for the latest blog turned memoir a la The Pioneer women & Julie Powell – I resolve that you discover *me*!!
To the bakers up the road: I resolve that you stop making the world’s finest croissant…you are too much for me too handle so I am afraid you must go. Please feel free to replace with a 7 grain organic leaden bread, if you so desire.
To my dog who craps in the basement: I resolve that you will not crap in the basement and then try
to hide the evidence by eating it anymore. Our other dog simply barks and I let him out in the backyard (rather to the disgust of the poolboy but whatever) and you will learn to do the same.
To the Facebook friend who insists on clogging up my feed with Treasure Island: I resolve that you relocate to your own island, far removed from wi-fi connection or better yet, find a plank to walk. Same for all you Millionaire City folk. You must leave town immediately.
To the makers of children’s cereals: I resolve you live in shame for 8 years, at which time you redeem yourself by creating a tasty healthy alternative that you give free to all the world’s children. You must also spend 800 community service hours searching for pathetic toys in the bottom of a man-made sea of cereal.
To all you self-congratulatory hipsters starting businesses, raising kids with ease, publishing stories, and eating organic: I um..well..hhhhmmmm…ok…I resolve that by the end of the year I will be one of you!