Thursday, January 13, 2011

Scrub-a-Dub-Dub


Ugh, the primordial scum I just cleaned out of the bottom of our fridge should be cause to revoke my parental rights. It's likely the source of every sickness in the County. Honestly, I don't remember any major food surges in there so just exactly how does that crap get there??

And it's not like I didn't notice it each and every time I opened the fridge, but somehow I allowed myself to mentally block it from my to-do list. It's so nasty I kinda wanna be a kid again so I don't have to deal with it. Oh wait a second, that wouldn't help. My mom made me clean the fridge pretty darn often as I remember it. Unloading all the food, get out the Basic H. And let me stop there a second. Anyone ever actually USE Basic H? Or Basic I for that matter? OMG, my mom LOVES this stuff. It's the end all of allll cleaning supplies. According to her you can clean the dirtiest oven, the moldiest shower, the greasiest dish, the funkiest carpet or mattress stain, you can wash windows with it, etc, etc, etc. Someone quick! Tell The Gulf Stream Team about about Basic H and I, for Cripes Sake!! LOL In fact, the whole time I was cleaning this scummy mess I kept thinking over and over "if my MOTHER saw this I'd never hear the end of it!!"

Abby just opened the fridge and goes "WHOA!! **huge smile** It's all clean!....Where's all our food!?!?" Oh honey, that wasn't food. That was the mirage of full fridge that the scum was projecting. Ha Ha. She then opens the freezer and says "yea, you could clean this one too." Uh, thanks, Dear.

So it's all sparkley clean now and smells like a Pine Sol dream, but I know it's coming again. That primordial evil that will somehow creep or crawl or magically appear in the bottom of my fridge and I'll be back at it again. The Flylady in my head is saying "ah, ah, ah. Just keep up with your Control Journal and you'll never face that ugly guy again" but reality says that I will bc as much as I love Flylady, and as much as I love my Momma...I'm gonna do it my silly way anyway and pay the price until "I" finally decide to do it their easier way. Then, I fear, the tides will turn and I will be "the mother" and will standing over my children with that damn Basic H and I having a soliloquy about it's wonders and might. Oh Lord, help me. ;)

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