“Self…” I said, “I think I’ll have an ice cream sandwich.”
“Good idea!” I replied, “You had a rough day. You earned it!”
I opened the freezer and a box of waffles flew out at me, I had a ninja-like reaction and managed to catch the entire box, and I managed to catch the two or three waffles that began sliding out of the box.
“Have a waffle too while you’re at it.” Annie mumbled over her shoulder as she wiped off the counter. I said nothing, I just shot her a “little help here?” look. As I continued staring at the back of her head I heard the sound of something else sliding. Annie spun around and stopped the ice cream sandwiches before they even got out of the freezer.
I hate our freezer, but I think our freezer hates me more. I go out of my way to avoid that frosty box of spite. I sometimes think it spends all day coming up with ways to get me. The waffle incident was a mild attack. Once a six pack of chicken breasts slid out before I could stop them. I suppressed a scream as that rock-hard package (with corners!) landed on the top of my big toe. I dropped down to pick up the chicken breasts and whimpered. Then a pint of ice cream barely missed my head. Upon standing up the top of my head hit the freezer door as it slowly closed. I could almost hear the freezer laughing. I’m not sure I can blame it. It has only one job, and no one notices until the job is not being done. I tend to think it needs this kind of entertainment.
I used to think the freezer was the culprit. I was convinced that it had a personality, and that it hated me.
That was until I watched Annie packing it. She’s an artist at loading (and overloading) that thing. She creates a game of Jenga where none of the pieces match. Her ability to stack it all is artistic, an activity to behold. I’m convinced that if I were to extract the entire stack while keeping it together, I would see a shadow shaped like Nike of Samothrace when I point a bright light at it.
As captivating and mystifying as it is to watch her fill the freezer, I can’t help but wonder if there is spite in the activity, she is a beautiful and dangerous woman. Annie is fiercely territorial when it comes to her kitchen. Several times a week she’ll complain about me being “all large in her kitchen”. “Stop lumbering around here…take your coffee to the Living Room.”
“Yes Dear.”
Maybe she is the freezer whisperer. Things do not fly out at her. Maybe she packs the freezer then quietly intones, “get him”.
Think about it, she didn’t seem a bit surprised at the waffle attack. She mentioned they were waffles without even looking. She caught the ice cream sandwiches before they barely had a chance to budge…as if she was expecting it.
Right???
She knows.
It’s becoming clear that the heart of a Saboteur beats within the chest of my Loving and Devoted wife; the tender and nurturing mother to our daughters, my partner for life. I have been attacked so many times by inanimate objects that I am slowly being conditioned to avoid her turf. She has a master plan. I know it. But I need to figure this out without peeking in the freezer.
Sorry girls…no ice cream until Mommy comes Home. A concussion will easily be a low point in my day.