w r i t e s t y l i n g s
Clutter, clutter and more clutter. For those of you who have a magnetic fridge, you might relate to this one. In our home, the refrigerator is a prime example of chaos personified. Its top is burdened with a concoction of papers, art supplies, flash cards...And too many times, this growing, lopsided pile of papers and supplies spills onto the floor.
On the other hand, the refrigerator door is a sight to behold—at least partly. You see, the fridge door seems to be the hub communication center for our family. Original art of a juggling dog and a unicorn (all priceless pieces by our seven-year-old resident artist) adds culture to our bland kitchen. My oldest daughter posted her latest Science test, in which she earned an "A." And I posted our family photo taken with Mickey and Minnie Mouse. So far, so good...but there's more.
The freezer door serves as the family's bulletin board. On one side a heavy-duty magnet struggles to hold papers about events and lists. I found a reminder to get tickets for the Bare Naked Ladies concert that already passed, a notification about a Brownie field trip and expired tickets to the planetarium. Shifting through the papers I also
discovered that information about the "Sleeping Beauty" ballet is missing. I'd better make a note to call and...Eh gads! I'm doing it again! I'm on the verge of creating another note to be posted. Well, that covers the refrigerator doors.
The side of the refrigerator displays mass communications—a well worn list of school and emergency telephone numbers, the school lunch menus, and a calendar made by my daughter. Dates for the local 5K races and my daughter's soccer games are posted, as well as telephone numbers of the soccer team.
For the last month an unusual note has been reappearing—a note I chose to ignore. Held in place by a soccer ball magnet, a fluorescent green note reminds me that my 11-year-old daughter needs blue hair color.
Well, our refrigerator kiosk is out of control, and I question its usefulness. Too much information is displayed; an overload of papers fight to be freed from the magnets' grip; and some information is read after events transpire. Then there are the mysterious missing papers—like the information about the upcoming ballet (I suspect this last one might involve foul play.)
Yesterday, my friend, Mary, congratulated me on obtaining an appointment with one of the top hair stylists in the area. Mary said she saw my appointment card on my refrigerator.
So, now we know. My refrigerator is a big blabbermouth. And its postings are only as good as the people who read them. To top it off, anyone who looks at the refrigerator gets a peek into my family's lives and may learn more than we care for them to know. Maybe, just maybe, we should stop posting things on the fridge.
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by michele sprague