It’s Fridge Friday!
I actually have a special affection for my fridge. I love it. (But not enough to dust the top of it.) When I signed the papers to buy my house, the fridge came with it. But when I moved in, a different fridge was in its spot, a much smaller, uglier fridge! I contacted my realtor who agreed the paperwork indicated the original fridge should be there. Soon the grumbling former owner of the house showed up with this big pretty fridge in his truck and had to load it back in my house. We didn’t help him, either, that scum!
My fridge is huge and stores more than I need! Now I have fridge anxiety because I’m moving to David’s house where the fridge is something he got from a friend’s garage, broken, and he fixed it for $40 (which is impressive I have to admit), but it’s about half the size of mine. Mine won’t fit in the custom fridge space at his house. I’m so worried that I’ve been watching the ads to find a deal on a fridge that’s bigger than his that will still fit in his kitchen… where will I keep my soymilk and frozen veggie burgers? All those greens for the bunnies and piggies? All the hard cider and leftover curry and bulk ginger and fake meatloaf dinners? And lots of tofu?
Oh and I keep my fridge clean. I love my fridge! The people who buy my house better appreciate it.
Also I can’t stand when people misspell refrigerator. There’s no D!