Brer Fridge and Other Sneaky Appliance Attacks

There’s been an uprising, and I’m pretty sure my toilet is the leader of the resistance.

I’m no longer convinced, like I was yesterday, that my inability to open the mailbox, listen to the answering machine, or flush the toilet were my fault.

(Side note: Finding a way to blame others is a particularly useful skill when you’re a mom.  You thought it was useful as a child or a sibling.  But that was just practice.  Those were the minor leagues, kiddo.  Parenting is where you really put this talent to the test.  It’s like hanging out in amateur competitions, not sure exactly how you’re going to channel your natural ability, and suddenly deciding, “What the heck?” and going pro.  If you’re new to parenting, watch and learn.  You don’t even need to blame another person.  Inanimate objects work quite well.  I’m telling you:  Watch.  And.  Learn.)

Now, I’ll admit it.  My appliances were pretty darn sneaky, and they almost – by the skin of their teeth – pulled one over on me.  But, in the end, they just reached too far, too fast.  And they gave themselves away.

See, following the terlet, phone and mail debacles, I was on a roll.  I thought to myself, “Self!  You cannot let the silly little things get you down.  Buck up and suck it up, Lady.”  And then I did.  I bucked up and I sucked it up.  And I moved on.

I decided I was gonna be brave.  I was gonna be strong.

And, FYI, “brave and strong,” when I’m single parenting my 5 kiddos, look a lot like cooking dinner from scratch.  So that’s what I did.

Roasted Garlic Oven Fries were baking away in my oven last night.  (The oven I start with an ice pick.  That oven.)  And I’d just finished finely shredding a head of cabbage for a batch of homemade coleslaw when I opened the fridge to grab a jar of olive oil mayo, the centerpiece of my slaw dressing.

And that’s when I realized my fridge wasn’t cold.

In fact, it was well on its way to lukewarm.

And my snarly, shifty, underhanded appliances almost, almost pulled one over on me.  Because, for a while, I was focused solely on pulling out coolers, bagging ice, and moving the beer in the garage fridge to a less (~tear falling~) cold location to make room for, oh, you know, the milk that sustains our high child population.

(Let it be noted that, when push came to shove, I chose milk for my children over beer for me.  I’m a saint, is all I’m saying.)

But, as I piled up the mountain of towels in preparation to defrost our ice-encrusted freezer (and as I tried to convince my children that garlic oven fries and homemade slaw are, too, a full meal!), I paused.  I paused with dawning realization.  I paused with dawning realization and said in a slow, dawning-realization way, “Hey.  Heeeeyyyy, now…”

Because it’s one thing to have the toilet fail.

And the mailbox fail.

And the answering machine fail.

And the oven on-switch fail.

And the microwave fail.

(Although, I admit that the oven and microwave have been staging their own sit-in for a while now.  …  Still!  Fail.)

But the fridge, too?  All in the same 4-day period?  Seriously?

It’s unmistakeably a well-organized and soundly executed rebellion.  Perhaps with outside funding from one of those radical, Free the Appliances groups that I hear interviewed on National Public Radio.  And I caught them red-handed!

I am SO on to you, appliances.

Sure, I had a few missteps last night.  For example, I threatened, on that Bastion of All Things Whiny known as Facebook, to replace the fridge before Greg returns on Tuesday.

But I recognized, just in time, that my fridge is Brer Rabbit and Anywhere But My House is the Briar Patch.  So, in this case, the fridge is staying.  If I mean it about natural consequences (and I do so mean it – just ask the kids), then, Brer Fridge, you’re outta luck.  You overplayed your hand.  And you’re stuck with us.

Also, no matter what I professed on Facebook, I don’t actually want to take my 5 kids appliance shopping.

So, you know what, appliances?  Bring it.  You have lost the advantage of surprise, and I am eminently prepared for this type of endeavor.  Not only did I live in Manila, Philippines during the August 1987 coup attempt on President Aquino’s government, I, more applicably, have had five children make similar attempts on my own government.  They would rule if I let down my guard, folks.  They surely would.

Happy Friday, everyone!

May your weekend be blissfully free of sneaker appliance attacks, and may you rest well so you’re ready for Monday.

As for me, I will be vigilent.  I will be prepared.  I will be ever on my guard.  (And I will collapse on Tuesday.)

In other good news, this is Day 5 out of 9 days Greg’s away.  Halfway there, baby!  It’s Hump Day!  Without the …


Should’ve quit while I was ahead.

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6 responses to “Brer Fridge and Other Sneaky Appliance Attacks”

  1. I have a three-fridge coup going on. We replaced our fridge in May with a craigslist fridge just because I got sick of it leaking all of the wood kitchen floor every time the weather got above 60 degrees. Said CL fridge just went luke warm for the second time last week right after a trip to WINCO with kids, which was not soon to be repeated. Bags hastily moved to husband’s beer-brewing fridge in the garage after said husband had a nice warm glass of milk. So, we got another CL fridge this weekend (with a warranty this time). Kept the old one plugged into do the transfer, but now the old one (the second one) is colder than the new one and the new one won’t make ice. So I have food in three different fridges, two of which are in my kitchen, one of which is blocking the entrance into the living room. One has ice and the other has water. Bible study friends at our house on Monday had much fun with their shadenfreude of our situation. I remember fondly back to the days of a leaking fridge.

  2. This is how I am seeing it – Your husband and father and appliances all got together to plan this attack on you so that you could in turn blog about your appliance mishaps rather than your husband and father becoming “blog fodder”! Ooh I wonder what the payout was for the appliances?!

  3. I have joined your club…single parenting a pack of kids while husband is away. And I too shall collapse…as long as it happens after he returns, all will not be a catastrophe. But it is going to be a close, very close call. Serenity now!

    • Repeat after me:
      We shall read The Little Engine That Could every night before we take our sleeping pills.
      We shall reread The Little Engine That Could every morning, ’cause who can remember anything from yesterday, anyway?
      We shall drink our coffee all gone.
      We shall try not to hand all of our screaming babies to our husbands the second he walks back in the front door; we shall maintain our dignity and hold out for 10 seconds, at least.

      And, yes. Serenity now!

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