After the last decoration has been put up, the house looks bare and empty. The holiday rush is over, it’s too cold to garden and kids are no longer under foot. Maybe it’s the winter blues or lack of activity, but somehow starting out a New Year with a clean slate just feels right.

I prepare for the beginning of another calendar year by delving into my desk files, reorganizing and setting up for the next 12 months. Unfortunately, I always run across my list of last year’s New Year’s resolutions. That’s when the ringing of hands begins. 

Most of my life rocks along pretty well. I’m not on the FBI’s top 10 most wanted list, I don’t pay credit card interest just to stay afloat and my house is neater than Dearly Demented Mom kept hers, though my windows could use some work. 

So, if I’m pretty much an “I’m okay, you’re okay” type of gal, why have I been trying to lose the same 20 pounds for the last half century? Think of the closet space I would have instantly at my fingertips if I didn’t have to store three different sizes of clothes in there. 

I am sick and tired of fighting this one battle as my resolution every year. What makes me even sicker is all you women out there who can eat anything and still stay thin. If I made it my personal resolution to strangle each and every one of you, guess I could finally make the FBI’s big list. 

Gone Country Martha’s at the top of my strangle list. On a hot summer day, after we’ve rummaged for treasures at the dump, we’ll stop by the store so she can buy a gigantic ice cream bar covered in chocolate and nuts. I gain 4 pounds just watching her take off the wrapper. 

And then there’s Very Best Friend who’s been normal, just like me, and struggled with her weight for years. Of course that was until three months ago when she found some magic new/old diet that actually worked. VBF dropped 15 pounds in a nanosecond and even worse than that, she kept it off through the holidays. 

Somebody poke me with a fondue fork. I’m done.

I’m not quite old enough to quit hitting the hair dye bottle or give up on the battle of the bulge. I mean finally acquiring the senior’s discount is a delight, but when is that magic age when you can say, “You know what? I’m letting my hair go gray and pitching the bathroom scale. Nobody can get past all those wrinkles on my face, anyway.” 

Every year it’s the same thing. “This year I’m going to lose 20 pounds and exercise every day.” I always lose around 15 pounds, then gain back 18 and hurt my back after about a month of working out.

So here’s my question. If they’ve got a pill to make an older man still “romantic” and a pill to keep him from having to “go” too much on the golf course, where the heck is a pill to keep me in my small size clothes? Come to think of it, where’s the “keep my hair from turning gray” pill? And, while I’m on a roll, could someone please come up with a robot that can clean my house? 

This year, the personal terrorist I’m worried about is my bathroom scale; so once again, here I go on that magical weight rollercoaster ride. Maybe this year, I’ll just resolve to gain 3 pounds and, more importantly, force feed my skinny friends. Homemade apple pie, anyone?

Spreading laughter throughout the world…one chuckle at a time.

Mikie Baker
www.mikiebaker.com