NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS

We were all at Debbie's house for her New Years Day brunch and of course the

subject of New Years Resolutions came up. We were 3 generations in the room,

myself, a senior of course, my three children, and my grandchildren of high school,

college age and up.

I was, as always, interested in their thoughts and hopes but for myself I was bored

 with that subject. When I quit smoking years ago it was not a New Years resolution,

 it was in August after a doctor's warning. Thankfully, that would not come up today,

 none of my kids or grandkids ever took up smoking...(cigarettes).

"So Grandma, what are your resolutions? " asked Matt.

"Honey, I don't make any...I guess I just think that I...well, don't have anything

to improve on.  Right Debbie?" ( I had no intentions of sharing with them my addiction

to Good And Plenty.)

"Yeah. Ma, you're perfect," she said, and we both laughed.

"Ok, I'll start," said Debbie, "I resolve to spend more time at the gym."

"And I'll spend less time on Facebook ," said my granddaughter Bonnie.

Natalie was our aspiring journalist; "I'll write in my journal every night, even if

I don't feel like it."

"And even if you have nothing to write about?' called out a voice to which Natalie stuck her tongue out   to everyone.

Matt raised his hand,  "I hate getting up so early in the morning to do my

homework, it's cold and it's dark!"

"So?"prompted his father.

"So I'm going to do it the day before!" He got applause from around the room.

Haley had an increasing interest in "Nutrition"as a Major; " We're learning about

blueberries and raspberries, I'll start eating them."

"And I'm going to keep my room neater" announced Emily.

Debbie clapped her hands with delight, "Ah,that is just what I wanted to hear!"

She turned to the rest of us, "You can't imagine what that room looks like...you

can barely walk into it." She pointed to the staircase, "Don't even try!"

"Mom, I cleaned it today," Emily said in her cute cool way. "I'll show you."

With that she went upstairs with her camera phone; a few minutes later came

back down and gave the phone to her mother. She had taken pictures from

different angles of her bed, her dresser and her desk.

Debbie studied them, "A little better, now if you can only keep it up."

"Pass it around ,we want to see them too!"they all cried," and we'll each grade it!"

As the phone was passed from hand to hand, Emily's room was given a mark for

neatness, A,B,C,D, or F for Fail. She got mostly B's, with one B- and through

it all Emily laughed. When I looked at the pictures I thought...not the neatest room

in the world, but who am I to judge her? I gave her an A+.

Have you ever noticed that those that pride themselves with being  'highly organized'

look down on the rest of us?  Once, but only once did I tell them that I read about

some scientific research showed that 'often very creative people are not neat and

well organized'. Some of them laughed (they know who they are) so I dug in even

deeper with my clincher; "Einstein had a messy desk. I saw it on the internet."

"What!" said Debbie.

 "Yes, Einstein...Albert."

She rolled her eyes, "Let's leave him out of this."

But the family was definitely divided between those of us that were and those that

were not. The Question is: Is that  trait of being 'organized' an inherited one, such as the bunions

that some get, or the curly curly hair, ( our girls hate it) or the  teeth that need braces?

My Dad, gone now, a successful businessman and very organized; my Mom, 98 years

old is very neat ( to a fault sometimes) and my children also are.

So did it skip a generation with me?  Is that scientifically valid?

And what about Emily? Did she get it from me?  When that was suggested I denied it!

My denials didn't work so I decided; No more being on the defensive.  My new response

 was, "Well, isn't she, or any of my grandkids lucky to get any trait from me!"

                                         They were all speechless after that!

                                                               THE END