Jewish World Review Jan. 2, 2002 / 18 Teves, 5762
http://www.NewsAndOpinion.com -- WHY is it that every year, it is only us - the parents - who bother making resolutions?
Clearly there is a much simpler way to make our lives saner and svelter: Give the resolutions to the kids.
Imagine all the cigarettes, Scotch and Cinn-a-Bons we could forswear if only our kids kept even a handful of these vows!
When entering an elevator pungent with a stranger's perfume, I will not exclaim, "P.U.!" and hold my nose for the duration of the ride.
I will make every effort to look up from my GameBoy, at least when I cross the street.
After I take a snack from the fridge, I will not perch on the bottom shelf of said fridge to eat it.
I will bring no talking toys to the table. But if I do, I will not insist they be given their own place setting and dessert.
When asked to try a new food, I will sample at least enough to cover one tastebud before making loud gagging noises and spitting into my napkin.
Throughout the meal I will eat with all due speed, neither resorting to mouse bites nor consuming substantial items like bananas or burgers in one single, unclosable mouthful.
I will not kick my doctor anywhere in the bellybutton-to-knee zone, no matter where he/she attempts to shine a light.
Nor will I physically assault the person cutting my hair, clipping my nails or trying to get a teaspoon of cough syrup down my throat.
I will place nothing edible, valuable or breakable in the VCR. If I do, I will warn my parents before they put a tape in.
Once I watch my favorite scene in a movie, I will not rewind the tape to watch it another 16 times, no matter how moving the Pikachu/Ash dialogue.
When I have finished eating all my cereal, I will not turn my bowl upside down to prove it.
Should someone as ancient as my parents insist on saying hello to me, I will not scurry behind my parent's leg in terror.
When spotting a person of remarkable girth, I will exclaim neither, "Boy, are they fat!" nor, "They must eat a lot of food!"
My coat will never lie in a heap 2 inches from where I walked in.
If, for reasons of extreme fatigue, my mother or father decides to skip one tiny element of my bedtime routine - the tummy tickling, the kissing of the stuffed bear, the turning off the light then turning it on again then off again to confuse local monsters, etc. - I will not insist that he/she start the whole thing from the top, under pain of nonstop screaming.
I will accept the fact that homework, teeth brushing, neck washing, vegetables and visiting the relatives are nonnegotiable.
I will not whine.
I will not screech.
I will not spill.
I will not sing the Food Emporium jingle to the exclusion of all other songs.
I will not grab my sibling's favorite toy from his/her clutches and fling it on the floor as if it has cooties.
I will remain incredibly cute and lovable, despite the fact I am no longer acting like any kid you've ever met.