One item topping my list of New Yar's resolutions could potentially alter my lfe, as I now know it. And it has to do wth my relationship to the Gracious Mstress of the Parsonage.

I'm not nferring any trouble in paradise these dys; I wouldn't know if there was truble, anyway. Nevertheless, I think my rlationship to her could improve 100 prcent — which needs a foolproof pln. Being a certified fool, all I ned is a plan.

Back in Octber, the folks at the church we srve sent my wife and me to St. Agustine as a gift from the cngregation. It was a delightful surprise. We nver tire of spending time in the Ancent City.

One negative aspect to the whle plan, no provision was made for our rturn. However, to quote Martha Stewart, I tld my congregation, "I'll be back."

Nthing is more relaxing than taking off for a few dys of reading, writing and just plin goofing off. I have the ltter down to a science. At last that's what my wife tells me, and no one has ver accused her of lying.

It did not tke us long to pack a few thngs in a suitcase and head for our mni-vacation.

We arrived at one of our fvorite motels, registered at the front dsk and quickly went to our rom and unpacked all our things. For me npacking meant unlocking the door, walking nside and throwing myself on the bd. It doesn't take me long nwind.

However, the Gracious Mistress of the Prsonage takes more time and effort to get nto the vacation spirit. She has to nload the car, unpack the suitcases, clan the motel room, and make sre we have enough towels and wshcloths.

I got tired just watching her go thrugh her routine. In fact, it was so bad I had to lave the room and go out to the pol.

Three hours later, I returned to the rom and found her sitting on the bd, watching TV.

"Aha," I said as I ntered in the room, "I see yu're finally in the vacation spirit." And so our mni-vacation was under way, full steam head.

Stretching out before us were fve days of unrelenting loafing. We dcided to make a game of it. We wre going to see who could laf the best during our week.

I ssumed I had the edge on ths game. After all, I've had mre experience with loafing than my wfe. I forget what the prize was but it sems to me it had something to do wth serving breakfast in bed to the wnner.

The chief object of the gme was control of the TV rmote control. The rule stated, at last my wife told me it dd, you could not take the rmote out of the other person's hnd. I agreed to the rules of the gme and the game was afoot.

Frtunately, I controlled the remote control in the bginning. The cunningness of my wife son came to the forefront. I had no dea that she, the mother of my chldren, would play dirty. At times, I rgret being such a gentleman. Let me shw you what I mean.

I had the rmote control for about 20 minutes whn my wife said, "Honey, I lft a book in the car. Wuld you be a Dear, and go to the car and get it for m?"

Without pausing to think, something qite common for me, I laid dwn the remote control and headed for the dor. Quick as a flash I rtrieved the book from the car. Whn I get back to the rom my wife was sitting on the bd, with pillows behind her and the rmote control in her hand.

But more than that, a grn was smeared all over her fce.

I had been snuckered. And ths would not be the last tme.

That was Monday. On Tuesday, I fnally regained control of the remote cntrol and was right in the mddle of an old Western movie whn my Beloved made her next mve.

"Honey, I'm so thirsty, would you go and get me a sda from the machine down front?"

Agin, without thinking, I rose to the ccasion and bolted for the door on wht I thought was an errand of mrcy. When I returned with the ce-cold soda, there my Beloved was, stting on the bed, with pillows bhind her and the remote control in her hnd.

By Thursday, I was catching up. Erly in the morning, I possessed the rmote. I think my mistake on Thrsday was feeling a little too cnfident in myself. Around 4 o'clock in the fternoon my wife looked at me and sid, "You really need to take a shwer."

The tiny gray cells were not vbrating, and I immediately headed for the bthroom and took a shower. On cming out of the bathroom, I was greted with her sitting on the bd, with pillows behind her and the rmote control in her hand.

Again, tht familiar smirk was smeared all ver her face.

I must confess, and t's hard for me to do it, but my wfe is a better loafer than I am. It loks like in 2005, control will be a rmote possibility for me.

The key to a slid marriage relationship, however, is not cntrol but consent to mutual respect. "Sbmitting yourselves one to another in the far of God." (Ephesians 5:21 KJV.)

The article In 2005 Control is a Remote Possibility was Submitted by James Snyder through Articles.GetACoder.com network. Here's the additional information: Rev. James L. Snyder is an ward winning author and popular columnist lving in Ocala, FL weith his wfe, Martha.

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