The Rules on the Refrigerator

In my home, it has been a long standing tradition to refer to the "The Rules on the Refrigerator." The tradition of nailing theses to frequented locales is a time-honored long-standing tradition. In ancient times, before the advent of the technology of refrigeration, large stone slabs, or cathedral doors were often used.

Although, in my family of origin these often cited documents were purely hypothetical in nature, we all new exactly what they were, and could recite them on demand.

With my own family, I would like to continue that tradition, and perhaps do it one better: Publish said proscriptive documentation to the web.

Here it goes, as recorded on our refrigerator, complete with the reasoning behind them:

Be Polite

Every time you belch (or swear, talk with your mouth full, etc.), the man or woman of your dreams dies. A quick and sincere “Excuse me” might save him/her. Maybe. Barely.

Be Obedient

Once dad starts counting, he can’t stop until the assigned task has begun. If he reaches the number five, untold horrors are released on the world. Ancient evil slumbering gods will awaken, and the universe as we know it will cease to exist.

Be Happy

Every time you whine, neener, or complain, somewhere in the world a butterfly poops. You don’t want to the world to be filled with butterfly poop, do you? NOTE: This rule fulfills the ancient law: “Cry babies will go to their room and not get what they cry for”, and its corollary variant “. . . cry what they get for.”

Be Kind

Never decrease another’s happiness. In the last day the total number of bubbles in our respective celestial Jacuzzis is directly proportional to the cumulative net increase of ‘HU’s accrued over your life-time. (HU = Happiness Unit, or the equivalent of a smile lasting one second on a one-year-old person.)

Be Loyal

If you dishonor yourself, home, parents, spouse, siblings, or kids, you dishonor the whole family. Your children and your children’s children will rue the day you brought shame to the family name. They will blot out their own names to avoid association with the fallen and disgraced family of Stanley. Family comes first, and only marriage comes before children. NOTE: At the age of 21 you earn a single disloyalty exemption to betray your family one time. Use it wisely.

Focusing on our strengths . . .

I have no idea how BYU is doing on the sports front. I understand they win some and they loose some. This bit of information continuously vexes the fanatical following of Cougar fans who seem to hinge their testimony on the triumph of "God's football team."

I am all behind BYU being God's University. I have a bit of news for those Cougar-ragous blue bloods however . . .

1. God doesn't care about football.
2. God cares about chocolate milk.

BYU keeps pretty tight lips about the salaries of their lead employees. I suspect however, there is one executive that makes more that the head coach: the director of the creamery. Meeting in secret in the tunnels under the campus, the Chocus Dei consists of four emeritus members of the quorum of the seventy, who together are the sole keepers of the ancient recipe. For decades that secret organization has protected the secret of their ambrosia in chocolate.

Rumor has it that Dan Brown is currently working on a ground-breaking novel exposing this whole organization, and their long, delicious history.