The Daily Complaint: How Did the Refrigerator Get So Icky?

The power went out, so I had to clean the refrigerator. It's called the domino effect.  Mother Nature (who doesn't have to plug in her fridge) dumped enough heavy wet snow to short circuit her haughty step-child named PECO. 

My first thought when the power went out at 4:00 in the afternoon was, At least it's still light out.  My second thought as the sun began to set was, Good thing I have plenty of candles.  My third thought as the kids asked "What's for dinner?" was, Oh good Lord, what am I going to do with all the food in the refrigerator?

Answer: leave the fridge door closed as long as possible to keep the cold air in.  But when PECO proclaimed that service would be restored the next morning, I was gripped by cold foreboding (if only I could have channeled some of that into the refrigerator.)  But every cloud has a silver lining (that's the positive spin on complaining, right?) and the outside temperature was hovering around 34 degrees.

After three hours without power, I offloaded the dairy, meat and ice cream to the table on the deck. Problem solved for the night.  But as I slid the last item, a three-quarters full gallon of milk, from the top shelf, I was appalled by the opaque sheen to the tempered glass shelf.  I was pretty sure those shelves are meant to be clear.

How does it happen?  The food is packaged (unless the kids slosh a half-eaten yogurt back into the dairy drawer or hubby tucks a piece of foil haphazardly over leftover stew), so how can there be such residue, crumbs, and miniature foodstuffs that would keep a family of mice in banquet mode for a week?  Why do they leave the milk cap loose?  Why did he put the gravy in that container?  Why did I defrost the roast without a paper towel under it?  Coldly exposed by the empty shelves, the refrigerator is a hideous site. 

Sponge in hand and bucket of soapy water at foot, I went about cleaning off each and every shelf. You could eat off those shelves now.  (Note to kids: Please don't.)  I muttered a lot of complaints during that cleaning. But I was left with a satisfying result: a clean refrigerator.  Mother Nature likes a tidy house.  The episode put my complaints in stark relief and verified something my father always said. If you complain loudly about a particular thing, you're probably guilty of it as well.  From now on, I defrost meat on a plate with a paper towel.

That doesn't mean I don't have more complaints.  I'll be back with another Daily Complaint.  And if you have any, please share.  It feels good to vent (and to be able to see through the refrigerator shelves.)