There’s a new refrigerator in my kitchen as of yesterday, bigger and better than the fifteen year old model that didn’t close properly anymore.  The new fridge wears its black finish well–sleek and sharp.  It’s a looker, but when we bought it I didn’t realize that the shiny finish on this thing is mirrored, so every time I wind up in front of the fridge, hand outstretched to open the door to find something to feed my face, I see me staring back. Pause while I rethink that hunger pang.

I’m not a big fan of mirrors unless they are the funhouse thinning kind. Apparently I forgot to ask for that feature. Unintended consequence?  Sudden loss of appetite. It could be a stroke of weight loss genius.  Everyone’s refrigerator should be mirrored.

Why stop there? Really most of what I shouldn’t eat hides out in my painted, wooden kitchen cabinets. I’ve thought switching out some of the doors to artsy, wavy glass could be cool, but now I’m thinking every cabinet with food in it should have a mirrored door. Wowsa. Behavior modification at its simplest–though at some point I might be willing to poke my eyes out and go strictly by smell.

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