Story Time

I need to tell you about the fight I had last night with my freezer.

Don’t you worry, it wasn’t physical. It was verbal. And honestly, I think it won.

So, before we get too far, there’s a backstory that I need to explain.

My fridge hates me.

Oh? You need more than that? Sure, sure.

My fridge hates me. You know how you kinda push the fridge/freezer door shut like while you’re walking away? It’s such a common act, it’s strange to think about. But everyone does it, like exactly the same way. Except for me apparently. At LEAST every other day (or hell, every other time I get into the fridge), the door doesn’t actually close when I push it. I know what you’re thinking.. Sharon, obviously, you have too many things in the door, it’s too heavy to just be pushed like that. Well, to that I say, shush your face. There’s barely anything in our doors. For that exact reason. Your second thought it’s probably something along the lines of.. Well then Sharon, you’re clearly not pushing it hard enough. Put to some muscle into it man.. er.. girl! And to that I say.. I will not! I push it the same every time, and every other time, it closes.

So, as you can now see.. My fridge hates me.

So back to our fight last night. It actually starts in the mid-afternoon time frame, I just didn’t know. The husband left around 3-4ish. Shortly after he left, I got up to get a popsicle (Outshine Grape Popsicles FTW!). I took my popsicle back to bed with me, and went back to sleep after I finished it. Migraine drugs, yo! I kept hearing strange noises, but it was getting dark, and I was alone, so that’s not that strange for me. I can talk myself into hearing all kinds of things. The husband wasn’t home yet when I went out to get a drink, about 9pm.

And the fight began.

Turns out, that in my earlier visit to the freezer.. the door didn’t close all the way. As in, it was at least half way open. Apparently for hours.

Sharon, why didn’t you notice the door was open!

Again, I tell you.. Migraine drugs, yo!

My freezer was full of water. And grape juice, as my popsicles had melted half way gone. It was very pretty. A nice fuchsia clear swirl color. Ice had melted. My popsicles were ruined. But the food was all still plenty cold enough. I’m not too proud to say that I was full on cussing out the freezer, as I used MANY towels to soak up the fuchsia water that was about an inch deep. I had to get rid of all of the ice we had, because it had melted and was stuck together. If you’re like me, the panic of having no ice is setting in right now. Turns out the strange noises I was hearing was the ice maker dropping ice, but there was nothing to muffle the noise like usual. Because. My. Fridge. Hates. Me.

The floor was all wet, where the water was running onto it. I just threw a towel down on that one, I’d already spent too damn long trying to get this cleaned up.

I’m not convince I won the argument, it seemed to get the last word in.. In the form of me having to throw away my beloved grape popsicles.