New Year’s Resolution

I have been deeply contemplating my New Year’s Resolution this year.  I fleetingly considered curtailing my use of the f-word but then realized this would likely fall in the category of self-destructive behavior.  And since I have already spent an ungodly amount of money in therapy learning productive coping mechanisms, I would hate to disrupt my progress.  Last year, I did not ask Mike any hypothetical questions for an entire year.  (i.e.)  “If you were stranded on an island with a supermodel who wanted to have sex with you and I would never know and you did not know if you would ever be rescued, would you have sex with her?”  I really should have saved the “Hypothetical Resolution” for 2012 since it was extremely challenging and I would have been granted a reprieve when the world comes to end later this year.

Anyway, this year I have opted for simplicity.  For 365 days, I am going to be tolerant of my fellow human beings.  Not tolerant in the sense of sexual orientation, religion or race.  I seriously couldn’t give a shit less.  I am talking about little nuances that have chipped away at my granite soul for years now.

The First Tolerance: I fucking HATE listening to people eat cereal.  HATE IT.  Something about the milk slurp, the crunch, the swallow and the repeated spoon clank followed by the bowl drink makes me want to punch them in the throat.  The only reason I have been able to sustain a marriage is that Mike leaves before I get up so I am not subjected to this revolting abomination.  And I am NOT alone.

While writing this blog, I spoke with my sister who also happens to loathe the sound of cereal being consumed and decided that they too would like to partake in this resolution.  Anyway, I am going to go to a certified hypnotist until I am officially cured of my aversion to cereal and the rage it evokes.  And if there is time remaining in my session, I will use it to become indifferent towards my parents.

The Second Tolerance:  I was reminded of this one by my sister, because EVERY single time it happens to one of us, we call each other laughing.  Drum roll please…….People that call us up and ask “Would you LIKE to watch my kid(s)?”  Seriously? WTF? No, I would not “like” to watch your kid.  I would LIKE to go get a massage.  I would LIKE to take a nap.  I would LIKE to take a long hot bubble bath.  I would LIKE to watch the Twilight movies in succinct order without interruption.  Those are things I “like”.

Look, I get it.  I have birthed a couple.  And the truth is: I actually really like kids.  They are funny and I enjoy coloring.  Yet, when a request to babysit is worded in a way that sounds as though I am receiving a special treat, the bullshit alarm reverberates through my core. “Can you watch _________before I go fucking insane” or “Is there any way you could babysit for me next Wednesday when I get a pap?” etc. etc. are much more socially acceptable ways to pawn off your offspring.  HOWEVER, in the spirit of tolerance, I would positively LOVE to have _________ over for 2 weeks while you take that Mediterranean cruise.  No, no really, it is just a bonus that he is not potty-trained and taking large doses of Ritalin.  He has night terrors and lights fires?  Don’t leave him alone with my pets? Check. Totally cool.  I am serious.  Have fun!  Thanks for the $20.  That should cover everything!

Alas my resolutions are complete.  Happy New Year!  Also, please do not call and scream into my phone at 12:00 as I will be asleep unless one of my children is puking and also please do not be a bastard and drink and drive.  Cheers Sweet Angels!  Make 2012 A DELIGHT!! XO


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