Resolving to be like Martha Stewart...

"So...what are our New Year's resolutions this year?" I asked husband-head as we lounged around the house after Christmas.
"I'm giving up Mountain Dew," he replied.
I wasn't aware he even had a PROBLEM with Mountain Dew and wondered if there was such thing as a Mountain Dew support group...
"That's not good enough," I pointed out. "It's got to be something harder to give up - like beer."
"In heaven, there is no BEER! That's why we drink it HERE!" he sang out.
Then I told him my resolution.
"I'm going to be like Martha Stewart from now on," I said dreamily.
"You mean that really ANAL, annoying woman on TV?" he asked.
I explained how I would wake up each morning in freshly washed and ironed sheets, sprayed lightly with a lavender-scented mist. I would put on my designer bathrobe with matching little slippers and go into the kitchen where I would drink a cup of gourmet coffee I had made from freshly ground coffee beans imported from Brazil.
Afterwards, I would go out and in-line skate with the dog while picking wild blueberries for breakfast which I would serve in dainty little crystal bowls with fresh cream I had made the day before.
Husband-head had long since left the room and gone into the bedroom to get dressed.
"HEY! How come my socks never match?" he yelled out, while rummaging through his underwear drawer. "And why are my mighty whities all PINK? Did you screw up the laundry again?"
I ignored him and continued on with my reverie.
"From now on, the end of the toilet paper will be folded in a little point facing downward," I informed him. "Handcarved soaps will be in little dishes around the sink which you are NOT allowed to use OR the freshly ironed and perfectly folded hand towels."
"Does that mean you're actually going to WASH the towels?" he said incredulously. "What about the toilet bowl? I've peed in LAKES cleaner than that..."
I pictured the dinner table beautifully set with linen and cloth napkins, freshly cut flowers and scented candles I had made myself as the centerpiece.
"I'll spend the day making homemade sauces and little salmon appetizers in the shape of rose petals which we will eat from matching China plates and polished sterling silverware," I continued.
"No more microwave pizza on paper plates in front of the TV?" husband-head whined. "But that's my favorite!"
The living room would be decorated with tastefully arranged original prints hung on the walls and lamps adorned with shades that I had decorated myself.
"It'd be nice if you'd just clean the dead spiders off the window sills," husband-head interrupted. "Or perhaps you'd like to learn how to operate the vacuum cleaner..."
"When you come home each evening, I will be dressed in a cute little outfit, makeup artfully applied and my hair perfectly coiffed," I went on.
Husband-head just raised an eyebrow and stared at me laying on the couch in my grungy sweats, face smeared with wrinkle cream and hair standing on end.
"The refrigerator will be stocked with fresh vegetables that I carefully picked out at the Farmer's Market..."
"Speaking of refrigerators, I'm hungry," husband-head said and went into the kitchen.
A few moments later, I heard an awful retching noise.
"Oh my GOD! How OLD is that milk?" he screamed.
I suggested he go out for lunch while my Martha Stewart butt cleaned the house.
An hour later, husband-head returned.
"Remove your shoes!" I ordered him, knowing Martha would never allow muddy boots in the house.
"What, are you the Chinese version of Martha Stewart or something?" he asked, but obeyed my demand.
In his socks, he walked into the kitchen and promptly slipped and fell, landing smack on his hinder. The dog did the same thing right behind him...
"What the hell is on the FLOOR?" he demanded.
"Uh...I didn't have any floor cleaner, so I used furniture polish," I admitted.
That evening, we sat in front of the TV with a dinner of microwave pizza and Mountain Dew. So much for resolutions...