Artwork Anguish

  I seem to have lost my refrigerator. It used to be in my kitchen, but it's been replaced with a gallery for my daughter's artwork.

  Like all parents, the first "work of art" that I hung on the refrigerator was a source of pride, worthy of being shown off to anyone who came within twenty feet of the front door. Until then, nobody had probably seen such a masterful stroke of green fingerpaint. It was an instant classic - it's probably still on the refrigerator to this day.

  Unfortunately, I couldn't tell for sure - there are layers and layers of papers coating the fridge. It's like an old bathroom that's been covered over and over in wallpaper. No amount of chemicals would be able to burn through that coating.

  Over the years, the refrigerator has collected the finest trophies of my child's activities. There are swimming ribbons, homework assignments, pictures, paintings, and even photos from her little toy camera. It's become a mess. The fridge door groans when opening from having to support so much extra weight on the front.

  The simple and obvious solution is to get rid of this stuff. It hasn't been so simple. When I was a younger and more ambitious father, I scanned some of the artwork into the computer. This worked until the tonnage of work to scan exceeded what I could store on my hard drive. Plus, scanning things like that was kind of a tedious job.

  Around that time, my daughter figured out how to put things onto the refrigerator herself. Foolishly I reinforced this behavior by approving and beaming with pride at her ingenuity. Now she thinks that her job is to come home from preschool and put up her work.

  Once, I tried to get rid of a stack of papers before she could put them up anywhere. Only hours after I thought I had gotten away with it, she asked me why her papers were in the recycling bin.

  A better man would have used that moment as a chance to tell her that we couldn't keep everything.

  A lesser man could have told her it's because we don't love her, and if she keeps whining about it, she's next.

  I chose the wimpy way - I told her it must have been a mistake, and I helped her hang stuff on the fridge.
Either of the other two options would have worked so much better.

  Now the art collection has spread to my workplace. I have the most random collection of things adorning my walls. Now she prints pictures off the internet for me to hang in my classroom. It's not even stuff she has worked on! Just because she knows how to print something on the computer does not make it worthy of display. However, as soon as I got home the other day, she asked why I forgot to bring one such item to school.

  I'm stuck because I hate that look of disappointment. I want to keep her excited and proud of her work. I just need her to be proud without me having to show it off to my colleague and students.

  I have some thoughts on how to fix this problem without making her cry. Option one is to take away her crayons and pencils. Option two is to tape her fingers together so she can't write anymore. Obviously option one is no good because she could still print things. And the second isn't very practical because re-taping her hands each morning would take up too much time in the morning routine.

  I could just talk to her about this...

  Maybe it's time to buy a new refrigerator instead.