Poopin’ Pikachu

In my own life, I have found no image that more accurately depicts the way motherhood feels than this photo of my daughter’s Pikachu stuffy on a toy potty next to her training potty. It’s the perfect juxtaposition of the often grueling monotony of motherhood to the moments of sheer joy and hilarity that serve to illuminate a path of clarity on the more tenebrous days.

Raging on.

This is the first piece of original art I ever purchased. Embarrassingly, I no longer remember the actual name of the work but it’s been affectionately referred to as Angry Toast since 2008.

Angry Toast

My three year old recently questioned me about the meaning. I stumbled a bit trying to determine how best to explain the concept of raging against The Machine to a person who is not really all that familiar with systematic oppression:

It’s a piece of bread that doesn’t want to be turned into toast. Or, it’s a piece of toast that is angry because it has been forced into the toaster.

But I think she gets it.

I don’t want to be toast either!