2014 New Year’s resolutions

There are so many things I neglected to do in 2013, however I’m confident with the right resolutions this time around 2014 will finally be the Year of Kelly. This year I promise to do every single one of these to make myself a better person. Unless I get busy or forget about them or something.

1. Understand why really large shrimp are called “jumbo” while really large T-shirts are called “XL.” Do shrimp not have self-esteem issues? They do now. Thanks, Obama.

2. Figure out how to wear a scarf or at least look like I know how to wear a scarf so I can stop walking around Whole Foods all self-conscious when it’s clear those people all know how to do it and are judging me. Whatever. Keep eating your kale.

3. More Roman numerals.

IV. Stop freaking out when other people use salad forks to eat things that are not salad. Probably best to also stop knocking the food off their forks in the process while shouting, “You’re welcome” and deducting their dessert as my reward.

V. Begin career as Sesame Street puppeteer. Introduce new character, “Tex T. Thumbfingers,” a Southern cowpoke that warns kids about the dangers of texting.

VI. Figure out who Dow Jones is and why so many are upset when he’s down (perhaps use Tex to cheer him up?)

VII. Become bounty hunter. Confirm that turning in folks at Perkins for taking dill pickle spears from other people’s plates meets criteria.

VIII. Stop telling daughter that every time she disobeys one of Santa’s elves gets kicked by a reindeer.

IX. Frame Nicholas Cage.

X. Cry less, or at least at more important things than wife throwing away perfectly good leftovers.

XI. Spend more time with family; specifically, Olivia Wilde’s family. Minus her family.

XII. Figure out what Whig party stands for (wigs?). Join. Wear glorious assortment of wigs.

XIII. More things with axes?

XIV. Get into fewer choreographed knife fights.

XV. Stop mimicking Captain Jean-Luc Picard’s catchphrase “Engage” all over the place, especially in bed.

XVI. This year I’m finally going to do it. I’m going to learn patience and cook the batter before consuming pancakes.

XVII. Stop referring to children as “minions.” Minions do what they’re told.

XVIII. Replace children with minions.

XIX. Slowly replace appliances with 1970s counterparts and begin convincing wife it’s 1972.

XX. Do my “business” in a men’s room when there is another man there instead of walking in, freaking out and fleeing.

XXI. Uncovered that Whig party demanded government support for a more modern, market-oriented economy, in which skill, expertise and bank credit would count for more than physical strength or land ownership. What a bunch of squares. Secede from Whig party. Join Cocktail Party.

XXII. I’ve been talking about it for years, but spend an afternoon and finally map out the human genome. Then make a tasty sandwich. (turkey club?)

XXIII. Be more Fergalicious.

XXIV. Go on a crusade to ensure other people break their resolutions so I don’t feel as guilty breaking mine.

XXV. Blame random, obscure ethnic group for piddly first-world problems. Example: “I’m out of kalamata olives AGAIN?! You know whose fault this is, don’t you? Those stupid Bagladeshis.”

XXVI. Become manlier: grow facial hair in the shape of Texas on one cheek.

XXVII. Help wife around the house more by pointing out chores she neglected or areas she missed.

XXVIII. Probably stop trying to teach daughter home defense skills by rigging house with Home Alone-style booby traps. If she doesn’t know how to rig a blowtorch to a door handle by now she’s never going to get it.

XXIX. Poke a conductor.

XXX. Randomly become an expert on cobras and bring up cobra facts into every conversation.

XXXI. Stop blasting techno music/dancing whenever wife begins sentence “Can you”

XXXII. Be more modest and pay attention to other people, like that handsome devil I see in the mirror every morning.

Kelly Van De Walle is the senior creative & marketing writer for Briscoe14 Communications (www.briscoe14.com). He can be reached at vandkel@hotmail.com or via sultry message written on mirrors in a steamy bathroom. Follow Kelly on Twitter @pancake_bunny or face his wrath (Wrath is the name of his attorney).