The Day the Fridge Went Bad

On Monday, we returned from a nice, relaxing trip to Seattle. As I opened the fridge to unpack the food items, I realized it was hot and smelly and a little humid inside.

"This is bad. This is really bad," I said.

I found my husband, Dan, who was in the garage, still emptying the car.

"Our refrigerator isn't cold. And it smells."

"Uh oh," he replied.

Every time we go out of town, our appliances break down. Once, our furnace went out during a winter weekend getaway. Another time, the AC thermostat quit working upon our return from summer vacation. Now our refrigerator. Being a grown-up sucks.

We tried to go through Sears first, and they were booked until Saturday. Apparently, "Not Able to Store Perishable Foods" does not qualify as a "Requires Immediate Response" emergency.

We started cleaning the freezer. The truth is, Dan started cleaning the freezer that evening because I had a rehearsal. I left explicit instructions to use only vinegar spray and lemon oil wipes, but I think he sneaked some 409 while I was gone. ("It just works better.") I came home from rehearsal, and our fridge and freezer were bare. No more food.

The next morning, we called a local service and got an appointment for sometime between eleven and two. (You know how that goes. Translation: 1:45.)

"I like their website," Dan said when choosing which repair service to call.

Then we cleaned the fridge. It desperately needed it anyway. In fact, a few weeks ago, I had announced, "Once school is out, I am going to clean the fridge."

That was a careful-what-you-wish-for moment.

Notice who is doing most of the cleaning

The repairman with the good-looking website showed up that afternoon. He mentioned that he had graduated from the University of Idaho. Dan decided he had made the best choice humanly possible in the Refrigerator Repair Universe.

(U of I is also Dan's alma mater. U of I grads are very proud of their "I graduated from the Ivy League of the West" status. In reality, they are just jealous of Boise State's football team.)

The repairman removed a part from the fridge and said, "This isn't supposed to rattle like this."

He replaced the rattling thingy with a new thingy and waited. Pretty soon, the fridge started working. The whole process took about thirty minutes. And Sears couldn't fit us in until Saturday?

I went grocery shopping the next day, still mourning the loss of all of our wasted food. I told the cashier about our refrigerator woes.

"Good luck with your issues," he said as I rolled my cart out the door.

As I put away the groceries, I thought, "It feels so good to start over. I almost hate to fill it back up. Our fridge is going to stay this clean forever."

We all have the best intentions, don't we?

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