Great Expectations

I have been doing some research.

There have been many psychological studies that state that if we set exceptionally high expectations for ourselves and others, we and those around us will rise to fulfill those expectations (or maybe Oprah just said that).

Many successful and famous people must have set great expectations around their lives to become who they are, for example;

Heidi Klum: “I expect to look ridiculously fantastic, even though I have given birth to three dozen children, in order to make pre-menopausal insecure women feel poorly about themselves.”

Mitt Romney: “I expect to have more money than God and I will bail out the Euro all by myself.”

Darth Vader: “I expect to rule the universe and dominate the dark side.” (Oh sorry, so not Darth Vader, my bad, that was Nancy Pelosi)

Thus, as I am now faced with mid-life and a myriad of unfulfilled low expectations, today I have decided to swap my old set of expectations and formulate some new, higher expectations for myself, my husband, the children, the dog, and some total strangers around me.

For Myself

I now expect my body to decay at a slower rate. I expect to look like Heidi Klum in the morning. (No, not while she was nine months pregnant…well, okay I am good with that either way.)

For My Husband

I expect you to treat our bedroom as the sanctuary that it is and pass gas at least twenty feet from the bed.

For My Children

All three of you are expected to become Valedictorians of your high school. This will be expected for no other purpose than my sheer pleasure on multiple occasions to be able to say, “Yes, all three of my boys were Valedictorians”

I then expect you to stay out of prison as it would be humiliating to have to say, “Yes, all three of my boys were Valedictorians and now two out of three of them are serving five to ten in the Jackson State Penitentiary”

For The Dog

I expect you to stop eating the poop of the roaming forest creatures, and to stop givin’ me the puppy eyes while I am eating my ham sammich.

For Random Strangers

You are expected to remove your offensive rear-window stickers when visiting the child drop-off at the elementary school. It is distressing to explain to a seven year-old that the ‘mini-vans a rockin’ sticker does not have musical connotations. Nor is it pleasurable to explain why Calvin is urinating on a multitude of objects.

There you go; we are now going to rise to these expectations for a well-lived life of happiness, harmony, and bliss.