In 2010, I resolve to believe my husband will fulfill his New Year’s resolutions

During the first week of 2009, Country-Fried Daddy and I sat down and wrote a list of resolutions, then we stuck it up on the middle of our freezer door so we could see it everyday.

I think my resolutions included doing sit-ups every day, quitting my Diet Coke habit, and running a 5K race.  I’m not entirely sure, though, because over the course of the last 11 months, the list has slowly migrated to the side of the refrigerator.  If I hold my head just right and squint, I can almost read it.  I don’t want to, though, because I am quite busy drinking Diet Cokes while sitting on my couch with my running shoes resting on the coffee table.

Country-Fried Daddy resolved to train for a marathon before 2009 was over, and he did it.  Isn’t that annoying?  The man has ridiculous will power.

Tomorrow morning, while Belly and Miss D. and I eat muffins in a hotel room in Huntsville, Alabama, CFD will be lining up at the start of a 26.2-mile run, his first marathon.

The girls and I will get dressed, maybe watch some TV, play with some toys we hauled up here with us.  CFD will be running.

Miss D. and I have plans to make a sign to hold at the finish line.  While we’re trying our best to color in the lines, CFD will be running.

I expect it will take me at least a half hour to navigate my way to the finish line, find a place to park, and get the girls out of the car.  All the while, CFD will be running.

He expects to be running for a long, long time.

My first “dates” with CFD more than a dozen years ago included too many smoke breaks on the roof of the newspaper where we worked, late-night trips to Wendy’s for french fries and Frosties, and plenty of cheap beer at a local dive bar.  I suspected even then –  back in those days of nicotine, grease, and alcohol — that we might end up together.  But I never, ever suspected that guy would become a marathoner.

Any ideas for what Miss D. should write on her sign? “Run, Forrest!” comes to mind, but I somehow think that might be inappropriate.

Like it? Stumble it, please. (Click on that little blue and green circle down there.)