My Resolve

The zombie appeared out of nowhere and advanced quickly.... menacingly. Its bulging, bloodshot eyes moved independently of one another as its slackened jaw allowed drool to trickle down its rotting chin. It reminded me of a girl I dated in high school. A pull of the triggers on my double-barrelled shotgun took care of the problem quickly. The blast left my attacker with less head than a stale glass of draught beer. Suddenly, an even more terrifying spectre appeared. This one, however, wasn’t cannon fodder in a video game like the zombie but my conjugal colleague Cupcake. “Honey...” Cupcake began. I instantly put full shields up and mentally sounded ‘red alert’ for the conversation to come. “I thought of a great New Year’s resolution for you!” she enthused, as if it were good news.“I thought you loved me just the way I am.” I protested. “Besides, it’s half-past January already. Your resolution window of opportunity has closed. We must move forward.” “Don’t give me that ‘move forward’ malarkey! If you would move in ANY direction, I’d be happy.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to come up with a resolution like you promised for almost two weeks. Forgive me if I think you could use some.... encouragement.” “Is that what you call it now?” I put in courageously. “We used to call it...” I was going to use the “n” word but Cupcake HATES the term ‘nagging’.

“...a er... uh... pleasant reminder,” I finished lamely.
Cupcake didn’t rise to the bait but continued to plough forward with her agenda.

“I was just going to suggest you resolve to stop constantly putting things off,” she continued relentlessly. “I mean, you put the ‘pro’ in procrastination. Your slogan should be ‘Procrastinators of the world, UNITE... TOMORROW!” “Very funny,”  I grunted.  “With gags that clever, you could write for the CBC.” “Well you do tend to delay doing things,” she ignored my jab. “We painted the hall two years ago and I’m still waiting for you to put the switch-covers back on.” “I’ve been busy!” I protested weakly. “You don’t just rush into highly dangerous and difficult tasks. You wait for the right moment. Besides, I’m curious to know what YOUR resolution was. You certainly didn’t share it with me. It obviously didn’t involve quitting nnn... going on about the stupid switch-covers. And if you get to choose my resolution, I get to choose yours and I’m making it that you resolve to double our nookie output!” “Over my dead body,” she snorted. My mind leaped at the comedic possibilities of her response; however a quick-witted retort died on my lips. Apparently, my survival instinct had kicked in.
          
I decided to continue to press her on her own resolution-appropriate shortcomings. Although the strategy was more dangerous than any zombie attack, I figured a good offense would be the best defence; an approach apparently lost on the Edmonton Oilers.
          
“Okay, how about something more realistic?” I prodded. “I made a little list for you.” I pretended to feed a lengthy stream of paper through my fingers. Most situations are improved by jocularity. It seemed this wasn’t one of them.
          
 “Look here, Mr. Perfect...” Cupcake can take a lot but there is always that point... like the one she’d just reached. “I have gone without chocolate for over 288 hours and.... 27 minutes... and if you think I’ll deny myself any longer, when you’re not willing to make changes in your life, you’re nuts.”
With that she strode to the cupboard and took out a bag of Russell Stover chocolates. I’d never seen them kept in the spaghetti canister on the top shelf before.
          
“You gave up chocolate?” I was astounded. That’s like Linus giving up his blanket. “Oh, honey, please don’t give up chocolate. I beg of you. Remember what happened last time? Besides, your Hershey habit isn’t out of control or anything. It’s not like I was going to sign you up for an intervention.” “I know,” she muttered unhappily; a mouthful of the brown confection slurring her words. Her eyes had taken on a glaze a TimBit would be envious of. “It’s just that they are my weakness and I’ve tried to just cut down and that worked about as well as your old pickup lines. I thought maybe if I tried to go cold turkey, I could handle it but chewy granola bars just don’t cut it.”
      
 I hugged her closely, trying not to think of the chocolatey fingers on my new sweater.
      
“There, there, my sweet,” I said soothingly in her ear. “Let’s just forget all this silly resolution stuff. It’s never ever changed us one iota in all the years we’ve tried. The fact that I have flaws makes it okay for you to have flaws, too. Love can only exist between two people who can tolerate each other’s faults.” “So, your solution is to never try and improve yourself or attempt to become a better person? Accept your failings rather than fight them?” she frowned. “What’s the use of getting married if you can’t ‘let yourself go’?” I grinned. “Works for me!” she giggled, stuffing another chocolate in her mouth.”