This morning Rob and Will and I discussed New Year’s resolutions. After trying to explain the concept to Will (and omitting the fact that each year I tend to make several of the things in a vague way to myself, then forget them by the next week and almost certainly fail to carry them out by year’s end – although it’s hard to evaluate your progress when you can’t remember last January’s resolutions to begin with), Rob shared a few of his resolutions for the upcoming year.
"Do you have any resolutions," I asked Will.
"Yeah if you put tissue into water that makes marshmallows and if you put cookies into dough that makes oil."
"Hmmm. But a resolution is something you’d like to get done in the next year – or something you’d like to do better. One of my resolutions is to keep the house cleaner," I said choosing a dull, domestic but easily understandable resolution for myself as I scanned our disaster of a house (we have not yet recovered from our 10-day vacation ).
"Yeah. And I want to keep my toys messy."
Somehow I have the feeling Will’s hit upon a resolution he can keep. And that should pretty well thwart mine.