Resolutions are for people with goals, a plan and a life.

You know, like the kid in the front row in third grade who always raised his hand with the perfect answer so that Mrs. Musk, the man with hair like the bride of Frankenstein, would crack a smile, and all the brats would pretend to gag.

Not me, of course, I never got into trouble.

Resolutions are for the mature, the type of humanoids who are always on time and know how much money is in their checking account, and it’s not because the bank just sent a “you’re going to jail, you bum” message.

They make to-do lists and do something.

My to-do list plan is to scribble a list with such poor penmanship that an hour later, you have no idea what any of the jobs and goals could possibly be. The only part of a to-do list that is important is making the list and bragging you did it.

But lists are not for me.

Every year the only New Year’s resolution I make is never to make resolutions.

The plan is on New Year’s Day I will make our traditional stuffed mushrooms, Swedish meatballs with homemade pasta, three-cheese bread, brown-butter and roasted garlic asparagus and a fudge swirl trifle dessert. I will watch a football game, go to sleep for two hours, get up and it will be March. That Einstein was good at math.

This year I decided to toss out my resolution to make no resolution and make some resolutions.

Here are a some of my top resolution resolutes.

I am going to be less cheery and more mature. No more Mr. Sunshine with intoxicated dancing cows singing “My Little Buckaroo.”

I am going to be more honest with myself and others about my hair, and their apparent hair.

I realize I have been blessed with a fleecy, follicular noggin, and I won’t make fun of the apparent hair wanna-be-mes spraying hirsute resurrection on their heads.

I can keep this resolution. Here is an example: “Sure, that green spray will work. Don’t worry about the burning and skin peeling. Soon you will look just like me.”

When I hear a political leader use the term, “We’re just going to move forward,” I resolve not to become a third-grader and fall down on the floor giggling. I promise to take it as seriously as I do the sultry voice on the grocery store machine when she says, “Welcome, valued customer.”

I resolve to be nicer to Ms. Vegan, and I will try to refrain from calling her Ms. Vegan. I will stipulate Ms. Vegan knows the name of two cows, which is material to the matter of a double bacon-cheeseburger, despite the overriding fact Ms. Vegan does not know the name of Old McDonald’s piggies, E-I-E-I-Oooo (and Ms. Vegan is the finest humor writer an editor could hope for).

I will make a few more batches of sticky-bun cinnamon rolls, praline-streusel ice cream and caramel-white chocolate brioche pudding.

Happy New Year.

Reach Dennis Box, Covington Reporter regional editor, at dbox@maplevalleyreporter.com or 425-432-1209, ext. 5050.