in response…



If you look closely at my refrigerator, you’ll find an old Baby Blues comic strip; which I refuse to throw away. However, looking at this cluttered refrigerator you may conclude, “From the looks of things, Marsha doesn’t throw anything away…”Allow me to assure you that on occassion I actually do. In fact just yesterday I threw away a notification for the boy’s work study assignment from last August… But I digress. The reason the comic strip remains attached to my refrigerator is because the strip deftly explains why there is so much clutter attached to the refrigerator in the first place. Once you remove all signs of life–paper, pizza magnets, magnetic letters, little sayings, obituaries, old calendars, etc. you end up with a nice clean, sterile, boring old appliance; instead of a well lived and loved in home.

As such, the comic strip stays as does all the clutter.


The Turnaround…

When I arrived home from work yesterday the boy greeted me holding out the $5 bill I had given him earlier in the day. Handing it back to me he said, “I didn’t need the extra money after all…” “Why don’t you just keep it?” I said referring to the money. “I don’t want to clean my room…so here you go” He said placing the money in my back pocket. I smiled at his logic and accepted the money.

However, little does he know he’ll still have to clean his room this weekend.


The Funk…

As we sat down for dinner the doll looked lost in thought. “Are you okay?” I asked. She shrugged her shoulders but didn’t change her facial expression. “I think I’m in some sort of funk” she finally said. “About?” I wondered. “I don’t know…I’m just not interested in doing anything–not even eating.” She said. “Well try…” I offered but dropped the subject. Later as she prepared herself for bed she said, “I’m really trying to pull myself out of this funk”. “Have you figured out what’s bothering you yet?” I asked. Turning her head and giving me a quizzical look she asked, “Why must anything be bothering me?” “I just figured something must be causing the “funk” as you put it..” I replied. “Mom don’t you know me by now?” She said exasperated. “Giving me more things to think about is only going to throw me into a funk more?”

“Glad I could help…” I replied.

“UGH!!!” she bellowed down the hall on her way to bed.




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