Yes, It Is

Honestly, I know I can be unreasonable sometimes. I can get offended by things as simple as a tree being cut down when I really liked how it looked where it was. Frankly, if it's not my tree, I shouldn't care, right? Well, I still do.

So today, when I was wasting my usual unconscionable amount of time scrolling Facebook, I came to one of those tell me how to update this already perfectly beautiful kitchen posts. I really liked the dark, heavy walnut cupboards, and I hope they didn't rip them out in favor of the white ones that have taken over kitchen pictures all over the internet, but I didn't say anything because I didn't really care. That would be unreasonable.

But then ... then ... someone said, "Take the magnets off the refrigerator. It's not a bulletin board."

Excuse me a minute while I get my breath back. Rage--especially rage you're not entitled to feel--just takes it right out of you.

If a fridge was not intended to be a bulletin board, why does it have these big plain metal sides and front on it? Why does it practically scream one of these things.

1.     I have 1000 fingerprints on me and something sticky by the door handle. You need to clean it.

2.     You left the door open when you went to bed. That's me leaking on the floor.

3.     I have grease on me from you cooking and a month's worth of dust has stuck to the grease. Combine that with 1300 fingerprints and that clean spot where you started to wipe me off before you got sidetracked by the fingerprints on the back door, then call the guy who does sandblasting. His number's right there on my front beside an appointment card from ... somewhere. The ink on it is faded. Or greasy.

4.     You don't have a bulletin board.

5.     Cover me with magnets. With pictures of grandchildren. With newspaper clippings from the days you really had newspapers. With kids' artwork from the 20th century. With a phone number you need to remember that's been there since 2013 and you have no idea whose it is. It might be the sandblaster guy, but who knows?

We have two refrigerators, one in the house and one in the office. I think they're both black. I'm not sure about the tops of them, because I can't see them so I don't care. Reasonable, right? When our six-and-a-half foot son visits, he shudders sometimes, but he doesn't say anything. He knows if he does, someone will hand him a rag and a spray bottle.

The next thing you know, someone on Facebook will say that the tops of refrigerators should be kept dust-free beause they're not meant to be a holding station for compost made of dust, gnat wings, and a complete layer of what-is-that-anyway? They will suggest--rudely, I might add--that what-is-that-anyway? belongs in the junk drawer, not on top of the fridge. Especially a black fridge that shows every single fleck of something it shouldn't.

I have more than one junk drawer, so that actually makes a little sense. However, my junk drawers are already full. They are overflowing with legitimate junk we want to leave for our kids to say what-is-that-anyway? before they toss it into the dumpster.

Not that I have any intention of doing anything about it, but we've lived in our house nearly 49 years. That is a lot of refrigerator art, collectibles, and other stuff. But I like knowing our 30-year-old grandson scored six points in a basketball game in the eighth grade. I like seeing the lion our granddaughter drew when she was five. I love the player pictures from sports, the 2012 calendar with a book cover on it, and a drawing of a hand that says Happy birthday, Nana! on it.

When you have all that, as well as gnat wings, a little dust, and a clothespin Santa Claus, you certainly don't need a bulletin board. Your heart--and your junk drawer--is already full.

Have a good week. Smile at the memories on the refrigerator door. Be nice to somebody.