Also, in case you're a skimmer, there's a little giveaway at the very end.
I just love looking at fridges. The interesting ones, that is.
I like to see the artwork, photos, magnets, notes, and doodads. They say so much about a family.
Our fridge says, "We like layers and layers of mementos, but we only seem to have one small picture of the second child, but he can't see that far up, anyway."
But my favorite thing about the fridge, besides the delicious Braeburn apples within, is the artwork. It's a Gallery du Biscuit.
First, there's this guy. He reminds me of a scene from Total Recall.
And in the same vein, we haz more baer.
We haz Fite Club Baer.
Fight Club. Tyler Durden. You know, when he says he wants to put a bullet in the head of every panda bear that won't f*#$ to save the species?
Surely that's what comes to mind when you see a child's innocent rendition of a panda bear.
In fact, if you removed the googly eyes, it kinda looks like a dead panda bear on its back. The nose would be the tail, and the four ovals are the feet.
No, I do not wish to take a Rorschach test and start Xanax. Thanks for asking.
Then there's this masterpiece. Reminds me a late work by Mark Rothko.
And it reminds me of another movie, of course. Everything reminds me of movies, most of which somehow involve Robert Duvall. My life isn't about Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. It's more like Eight Steps to Robert Duvall.
But you know who has nothing whatsoever to do with Robert Duvall? This guy, a creation so completely unique, so utterly la Biscuit that I can't even bring myself to write on him.
I love you, Monster Henry.
And I love my child's playful artwork, the whimsical randomness of it all. I love a world where everything doesn't have to mean something, where little mistakes become touches of genius.
Can anybody guess what it is?
I'll send a surprise present to a random commenter who can tell me what's in the picture.