Those Dreaded Words
As I was growing up, there were some chores I didn't mind too much. (The list is short...) There were some that I didn't like, but I could live with. (The list is a bit longer...) And there were some that I just detested. Thankfully, those chores didn't have to be done as often. One of those chores was always preceded by a discovery. While looking for that one last jar of salsa that was way, way back in the back of the refrigerator, someone would discover a nondescript container. Upon opening said container, the discovery would be made. Whatever had been placed in that container, at whatever time, had been joined by a few close friends (okay, it was gross and moldy). The original contents were often unrecognizable. Then came those dreaded words from my mom: "Time to clean the fridge!" The door would be propped open, and every container, jar, and bottle had to be examined. Dates were read. Lids were carefully opened. Much nose wrinkling. Much use of ...