Funny New Year's resolutions for the family

Another year, another list of New Year's resolutions I don't intend to keep. The 10 extra pounds I'm carrying? Make me voluptuous. The well-bitten fingernails? Show my practical side by not splashing out money on fancy manicures. Fast food, missed visits to the gym, and gossiping behind neighbours' backs -- these are all qualities that make me an unpredictable, free-spirited and brave person (the gossip flies back as well).

No, I am not writing a list this year. Instead I have turned my attention to other members of my household, who will be well served to follow the resolutions I thoughtfully put forward to them.

Resolutions for my husband
I don't believe I am unique in having a husband with a plethora of fears and phobias regarding basic domestic situations. His New Year's resolutions should be to get over the following irrational fears.

In-the-rack-naphobia, otherwise known as fear of the dishwasher. It's a strange phobia manifesting itself in the inability to put dirty glasses and plates directly into the dishwasher without verbal encouragement. Previous brave attempts have included placement on the counter directly above the dishwasher, the kitchen table, and nearby flat surfaces. Occasionally an unclean dish will end up in the kitchen sink, ostensibly waiting for its turn to have a coveted hand-wash by unknown servants.

Can't-find-it-itis or "fear of discovery." No, it's not a fear of being found out to have some disgusting personal habit, but rather the fear of discovering where certain common household items are located. Begins with bellowing of "Honey, where is the…" and almost always ends with a perfectly logical explanation. Some examples are, children's sports uniforms in their dresser drawers, plastic wrap in the kitchen cupboard and Christmas ornaments in the craftily disguised cardboard box labeled "Christmas ornaments."

Not-obvious-enough-ia. This is a phobia that afflicts seemingly well-functioning men once they leave work and try to function in the household. Some questions that demonstrate this are, "Should I tell the kids to go to bed?" "Did you tell them they could eat pudding in the living room?" "Did you know their rooms are a mess?"

Baby-sitter-contact-ivitis. Yes, I can understand the mild discomfort of driving a young teenage girl home after a night of babysitting. However, I don't get the fact that you can never call to book a babysitter, even when you are the one that is going to be out of town causing the disruption to the schedule to begin with. The phone is your friend. Use it.

Loo-loo-sit-on-the-loo-adinfitum. This is an incomprehensible belief that the only place he can be left alone in his entire home is in the bathroom. Take my advice: try the garage, the furnace room, or the laundry room (no one ever goes in there except me).