I recently ran across a snippet of a blog entry, started last year in response to an article declaring November 15 as “National Clean Out Your Refrigerator Day.”
Yes, Virginia, there is a national day for refrigerators. (I saw it on the Internet, so I know it must be true.) One site even classifies the event as a “Fun Holiday.”
Believe me when I tell you that cleaning out the refrigerator is not my idea of fun. Cleaning the refrigerator ranks down at the bottom of my fun scale, right along with dental work, annual well-woman exams, and having my appendix out.
If an alien were to open our refrigerator door most days of the year, he or she would likely conclude that one or more mad scientists reside in this house. The contents of some of the specimen containers are lost to time, so one could also surmise that one or more residents work in a penicillin factory. Mrs. Butterworth would probably tell them no one lives here anymore. The poor woman is still recovering from repeated falls onto the kitchen floor, which stopped only after she moved back a step on the shelf when a new bottle of chocolate syrup moved in.
Reading the start of that article made me feel guilty. I hadn’t cleaned the refrigerator since last National Clean Your Refrigerator Day, and then I hadn’t cleaned the dread bottom shelf. I determined to roll up my sleeves and get the job done soon.
“Soon” turned out to be last Saturday afternoon. I was surprised to find the job wasn’t as awful as I anticipated and, three hours later, I stood back and admired my handiwork. I must confess, I’ve opened the door a time or two since just to admire my handiwork again. I am determined to keep the refrigerator clean from now on. That, for me, is easier said than done. I’m no housekeeper. I have never liked housework. Ever. I can find five hundred things I’d rather do, and that was before social media and smartphones made avoiding one’s chores even easier. Being a clutter bug to boot doesn’t help.
This is not for lack of teaching. My mother was a great housekeeper and taught her girls well. I still remember the day, when I was about eight years old, that Mom called me in from outdoor play to re-dust the furniture in the spare bedroom because I had dusted around the doily on the cedar chest. I thought nobody looked under doilies. Apparently mothers do.
I want to be a good housekeeper. I tell myself I will be someday, maybe when I grow up and retire. In the meantime, I’m hopeful that little successes like the refrigerator will give me some inspiration.
If not, there’s always next National Clean Out Your Refrigerator Day.
Copyright 2017 Sherry Hathaway. All rights reserved.