Borderlines: Open letter to my five sons at the start of a new year
By Jerry Robinson
(January 7, 1960)
All right, you guys, line up on the davenport and listen to me for a minute. Inasmuch as you have not seen fit on your own to change any of your ways since January 1st, I’m making up a list of resolutions for each of you.
Now take this, study it and act accordingly:
(Get away from the refrigerator and sit down.)
I resolve to leave my father’s socks, tee shirts, dress shirts and ties completely alone.
I resolve to not dig out while driving in low gear.
I resolve not to drive seven blocks out of my way to work just to drive past my girlfriend’s house.
I resolve to not leave apple cores and orange peelings in my bookcase headboard.
I resolve to let Dad win at cribbage at least once every three games.
I resolve not to work on model cars in the front room and drop glue on the arm of the easy chair.
I resolve to not stomp down the bedroom hall when I arise at six to feed my horse.
I resolve to shut off the light in the barn at night because I know Billy Boy is not really afraid of the dark.
I resolve to stop pounding on my younger brothers just because their arms turn such a pretty blue.
I resolve to stop getting my father to agree to things when he is reading the paper because he really isn’t listening.
I resolve to go to bed when told and stop falling asleep on the floor.
I resolve to stop hitting my younger brothers just because they make such loud screams when I do.
I resolve to not sit right in front of the teevee when Dad wants to see Huckleberry Hound.
I resolve to take a shower at least once a month.
I resolve to thoroughly dry the dishes and not put them in the cupboard wet.
I resolve to untie my shoes before I scrunch my feet into them the hard way and break the backs out.
I resolve to stop playing football in my stocking feet in a driving rainstorm in the front yard.
I resolve to stop whining when I forget where I put my shoes in the morning.
I resolve to stop hitting my little brother just because he is walking past me.
I resolve to not lose my lunch money at school.
I resolve to stop poking my feet into the speaker cloth when laying in front of the teevee set.
I resolve not to badger Dad for just one more story at bedtime.
I resolve to stop running my steel-wheeled cars on the coffee table.
I resolve to stop putting my milk into my soup.
I resolve to always close the bathroom door.
I resolve to stop eating crackers, oranges, apples and peemy butters in the front room.
I resolve to get big enough to pound on my older brothers someday.
I resolve to stop drawing pictures on the steamy kitchen window with my dirty hands.
I resolve to stop dropping popsicle sticks and hairbrushes in the toilet.
I resolve to stop running out in the front yard without being fully dressed.