There is a knock on the door and I run to answer. I am five years old and I am staring at the German exchange student who is staying across the street. We are in the era before cell phones and she is locked out of her hosts’ home. She wants to know if she can call them from our house.
“Mommy!”
Mommy promptly joins me at the door and ushers the thin, blonde girl inside. She stands in the kitchen, twirling the long, spiral phone cord between her fingers as she talks, her accent thick.
She hangs up and thanks my mother for letting her make the call.
“Do you want to wait here until they come back?” my mother asks.
She shakes her head. “No, thank you. It’s nice today and I don’t mind sitting outside.” As she turns to leave the kitchen, she motions toward the refrigerator.
“Why do you Americans all have so much stuff stuck all over your appliances?” She sweeps her hand up, then down, encompassing the mess of papers and pictures and magnets that decorate our fridge, her disdain evident. “Back home, we would never do that,” she says, her pride seeping through the accent. “We keep everything neat. Besides, appliances are meant to be kept shiny and bright.”
Her words sound harsh, but we assume that is due to her imperfect mastery of English.
She thanks my mother again as we escort her to the door. Back in the kitchen, I see Mommy looking at our fridge and frowning.
It is nighttime and I am supposed to be sleeping, but the rustling coming from the kitchen makes me curious.
I pad out into the hall and toward the kitchen. My mother is standing by the refrigerator, removing all the papers and pictures and magnets and stuffing them into a brown paper bag.
“What are you doing, Mommy?” I ask, even though I know perfectly well what she is doing.
“Cleaning off the fridge,” she says. “And what are you doing?”
“I need a drink,” I say, peeking at the nearly stripped fridge. It suddenly looks so big to me. Big and cold and plain and bare.
I take my drink and say good night.
In the morning, the undecorated fridge stands on silent vigil. I am the first one up and I sit in the kitchen, squinting at its blank brightness. Is it nicer this way?
Mommy says nothing about the fridge, but I notice that every time she passes it she gives it a long, hard look. She is trying out this bare fridge business, ruffled by the German girl’s comment.
It stands bare for one day and then two.
On the third day, I bring home a brilliantly colored painting of flowers and grass. My mother oohs and aahs -- and without the slightest hesitation takes a magnet from that brown bag and hangs my picture on the refrigerator door.
I am content and proud.
That night, I am once again in bed when I hear rustling, and I slip back out to the kitchen. I do not need to see to know. But I want to see. And I am right. Mommy is standing there holding her brown bag, putting everything back in place.
“What are you doing, Mommy?” I ask, even though I know perfectly well what she is doing.
“I am putting everything back. It belongs here,” she says. She takes out a photo of her sister’s kids and proudly sticks it in place with a ladybug magnet that I made in school. Then she takes out a drawing my brother made and labeled, “A Boy Elephant.” And she sticks that on too. Alphabet magnets follow. Then important notices, phone numbers, other photos and drawings. Mommy is so occupied with her task she doesn’t even tell me to go back to sleep.
Finally the last item has been pulled from the bag and hung up and she sighs contentedly. “Doesn’t that look better?” she asks, looking proudly at the photos and drawings that almost cover the shiny doors of our fridge.
I nod enthusiastically.
“I don’t care how they do it in Germany,” Mommy says, and gives me a hug. “I like our way. It’s comfortable and homey. All these things make me happy.”
I feel that way, too. After all, my mommy cares more about our eyes being shiny and bright than about the appliances looking that way.
(8) Anonymous, October 19, 2015 1:56 AM
I never have to clean the outside of my fridge door ...
only inside and underneath! The door is TOTALLY covered with family photos (I'm blessed with MANY kids and grandkids) and cute stuff and varied magnets. I'm not saying that everyone has to do it my way, G-d forbid, just that "each to his own." In Hebrew the saying is "On taste and smell there is no argument." (It rhymes in Hebrew!)
(7) Annie, February 20, 2015 5:55 AM
What a rude, arrogant and insensitive girl. What did it have to do with her ? I like uncluttered appliances, but who's she to say that they SHOULD be what she thinks they should be....that's the kind of arrogance that led to Hitler's Germany.
(6) Anonymous, February 19, 2015 11:20 PM
Sort of like an office desk
During nearly 40 years in the news business, I had more than a dozen bosses. Some had very tidy, orderly desks, with almost nothing showing after they left at the end of the day. Others looked like one storm had just hit and another was starting. One of the latter kept a sign at the front: "A clean desk is a sign of a sick mind." Of course the same variety prevailed at every work station in the newsroom, but no one else had such a sign. Nor did I ever hear any of the neatnik bosses complain about anyone else's messy desk. Takes all kinds. Bottom line, I'd hate to live in a world where all the refrigerator doors and all the office desks looked the same.
(5) Judy Robbins, February 19, 2015 8:22 PM
Fridge art
I have a magnet from almost every country I have visited in the past 15 years and some states. I love to see them there and remember the fun we had. When other people come into my kitchen they comment about how many of those countries they have visited and they are real conversation starters!
(4) Boca Mom, February 19, 2015 8:17 PM
LOVE!
LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS! Perfect.
(3) malka, February 16, 2015 4:10 AM
Cluttered refrigerator doors are a good thing!
I once read somewhere that having family photo's and artwork displayed on your fridge is a sign of a happy, healthy family life!
My kids know that when I put their artwork on our fridge that it is in mommy's special gallery, .....really... its just like the Louvre!
Annie, February 20, 2015 5:51 AM
I don't like the way fridges look when they're messy and covered with magnets and papers, but I can't imagine telling someone so unasked. It's none of my business. I don't have to live with it, and can't imagine walking into a house, asking for a favour and then telling them how their kitchen should look. What business was it of hers ?
(2) Shaindel, February 16, 2015 2:43 AM
So True
Thanks so much for your article, I can relate. My fridge looks just like your Mother's did. Lots of stuff all over it. My house looks that way too, toys all over, someone's sock on the floor, a pencil on the couch. Most important is that everyone's happy, not that the house is immaculate. But I do try to keep it clean.
(1) SusanE, February 15, 2015 9:03 AM
Ahhh the Refrigerator Gallery.
My fridge door was messy so I took everything off and shined the door. Scrubbed the top. I stood back and was proud of the unclultter. I put all the photos in the photo box. It really looked nice and neat for several weeks. Then things began creeping up and onto it again. The weekly newspaper columnist I love went up first. Then my kids pet photos again. Then the grocery list. Then a gift from a little girl whose mother told her I sold antiques and liked animals. She drew me a Thanksgiving card, telling me she liked animals too. She made me a picture of an antique horse with a fence around the pasture and the sun was shining. If that drawing was in a drawer, think what I'd be missing every morning in the kitchen.