Another episode in: THE FINER ART OF HOUSE KEEPING FOR DISCRIMINATING GUYS

As is usual with things of this magnitude it all started quite innocently enough.  I decided to clean the refrigerator.  Why I felt that this was necessary I can’t imagine, after all, when a thing has gone ten years without being cleaned there can’t really be any sense of immediate urgency.

Most guys would do well to adapt the ten year law.  It is simple and direct.   The way the ten year law works is thusly, If you miss the ten year mark you can wait another ten years before tackling that particular project.

One of the first things you will notice when cleaning the refrigerator is that refrigerators, for some strange reason, grow stuff.

Not only do they grow stuff but they mysteriously transport objects.  What this means is this, if you were to place a container full of delicious leftovers on the top shelf and in front of the sour milk (We will call this point “A”) The next time you go to the frig, that container of delicious broccoli and cauliflower will have migrated to the rear of the bottom shelf and is hiding behind a pot of baked beans, or something that might have been baked beans, (This we will call point “b”)  that was placed there sometime in the far distant past.

On the back of the shelves in the refrigerator I began discovering items that were unrecognizable.  Bottles and jars had been there so long the labels had yellowed, fallen away and turned to millennial dust.

Sunshine has an affect on plastic that causes it to age, become brittle and crumble at the lightest touch.  I found plastic containers in the refrigerator that had never seen sunshine that did the same thing.  Strange, very strange.  (And they tell us that it takes thousands of years for plastic to break down.)  Not in my refrigerator!

And something else, wire racks are not good.  When a container bursts from pent up gas the contents have a tendency to gush out and dribble and drool onto and into the containers below which can transform delicious leftovers into mystery food at the blink of an eye.

On the rear of the bottom shelf reclines a fish fillet, dried out and blackened, not by Cajun spices but by age.  I tentatively taste it and decide it is not fit to eat.  Hmmm, a jar of some indescribable stuff, sans lid, a new life form disguised as yellowish green mold gropes and gestures threateningly at me with cute little tentacles.  It whimpers pathetically as it follows the other unknowns into the garbage can.

A dish of mystery food?  Either they are bones or blackened carrot sticks?  Under the carrot sticks/bones are two ancient blackened bananas. They have been pressed through the wire shelf and hang there doing whatever deceased bananas do.

A few more containers and the garbage can moans and groans in disgust.

Shelf after shelf and the containers are removed to the garbage can.  The appliance is scrubbed and by the time I am finished it is gleaming.  It is so clean I go to the front door and check the house number to be sure it is my house.  Hey, I’m a nice guy but clean someone else’s refrigerator?  Never happen.

One task remains.  The freezer.

Oh goody!

I open the freezer door.

I immediately close the freezer door.

I don’t want to do this.

I reopen the freezer door.

Packages, containers, freezer bags.  The packages of frozen veggies, once opened and never resealed have suffered, not freezer burn but terminal freezer cremation.  I wisely decide they should go into the garbage can.

Ahhh, a mystery package.  I open the package and stare.  Hey, I wondered what happened to them!  Snake heads.  Yep, really, snake heads.  A maniacal neighbor who works at the park gave them to me to save for him.  What with him being maniacal I dared not say no.  (So, I have some strange neighbors)  The snake heads stare at me through cute, unseeing little squinched up snaky eyes.  Into the garbage can.

Four hours later the job is finished, so am I.

The garbage can is dragged outside to wait the garbage man.  That night the word is out, the raccoons avoid my garbage can like the plague.  There are some things that even raccoons draw the line at eating.  Smart animals them raccoons.

I finally heave a sigh of relief.

Finished.

Never again.

You Should Also Check Out This Post:

More Active Posts: