Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Do you ever wonder about the shit people put on their fridge door?

No matter where you go, from the humblest of double-wides to the most ostentatious McMansion, people put stuff on the fridge door, usually with those little fridge magnets you get from Little Caesars or Domino's or Slackville Insurance Brokers Inc.

I know I'm guilty. I've got Junior's grade one report card up there. Junior is twenty-one now, but that grade one report card was the highlight of his academic career, so it's a keeper. Things went downhill after that.

Got half a dozen pictures of Junior, the farm manager, various hounds. I'm even in a couple of them myself. Got a couple of doctor and dentist appointments Dominoed to the fridge door too, and a newspaper article from when Bubby got her "Volunteer of the Year" award from the Chamber of Commerce.

It's probably a fairly typical fridge door. A reflection of aspirations and accomplishments. You could probably get a doctorate in sociology analyzing what's on peoples fridge doors. Well, the sociologists would be up against it when they got to my buddy Kipling's place.

Now Kipling lives in a place that's bigger than mine, and genuine old Ontario hand-hewn limestone to boot. No simple red brick for him. But don't let that fool you. Kipling is a hard-core hillbilly. In fact, the only way I know I've got any hillbilly cred myself is due to an incident twenty years ago.

It was spring and I needed a spot to store a snowmobile, so asked if I could keep it in his living room. I was a bit tight for space at the time, and the missus of the day was a bit fussy, so I couldn't keep it in mine. He got right huffy, which surprised me, because I'd helped him rebuild a 426 hemi once right there between the love-seat and the coffee table. Why don't you keep it in your own living room, he says.

Which I did, to the detriment of an already shaky relationship, but that's another story. Point is, we're pretty even in the hillbilly cred except for one thing; the fridge door.

On the fridge door in Kiplings' kitchen is a picture of a toilet bowl, and in that toilet bowl is the most massive piece of shit you'd ever want to pass. Apparently it did successfully flush after a couple of attempts, which is a miracle in itself.

Turns out that this had been the achievement of one of his kids, who was just into her teen years at the time. Heading into that phase where they lose interest in school and get involved in God-knows-what. I think this was Kipling's way of giving the kid a subtle message. 'Ya, we've got your grade three report card on the fridge, but look at what you've done lately' type of thing.

Must have worked. Not too long ago he took down the toilet picture and replaced it with a photo-copy of the kid's engineering degree.

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