We arrived home this afternoon from our wonderful long weekend. I may have more to share about the weekend at another time, but what I simply must tell you about is our return home.
When we got the van unloaded, the children made a beeline for the yard to stretch their road-weary legs. And, I made my way to the mailbox to see what bills lay hidden there for me. In a rare moment of mailbox joy, I found fun mail--a package, no less--addressed to me! Woohoo! I tore into the package from my Secret Relative to find Easter chocolates, not yet a puddle of chocolate syrup, but well on their way. I quickly plunged them into the fridge, noting that there was something of a smell emanating from the appliance, which I assumed was from some produce that had gone bad while we were away. I had no time to investigate right then, as screaming kids seemed to be coming at me from every direction.
Later, the children came in from playing with a powerful thirst. Ruth opened the freezer for ice and said, "Uh, Mom. I don't think our ice maker is working...and it smells kind of funny in here." I quickly made my way to the freezer and confirmed, to my horror, that the freezer was, indeed, not working. Nothing was even remotely cold. And the stink and the mess nearly knocked me out. Then, I opened the fridge below and found that it wasn't the least bit cool in there either...and the smell became worse.
Here, I panicked momentarily as I wondered if my thinking the thing's death had actually caused it. Just last week, I was begging Jeff for a new fridge--not really because we needed a new one, but because I was just tired of this one. I sheepishly went to him proclaiming my innocence in connection with the fridge's demise, suspecting he wouldn't buy a word of it. And, then I set about the task of clean-up--which proved my innocence after all, because there is no way I would have intentionally wished this upon myself. I'll spare you the disgusting details, but as I was about to finish up, Jeff walked into the room and noted that the light was on in the fridge. This, he thought, was odd if the thing really had given up the ghost. So, he asked if I had checked to see that it was set on the proper temperature. That's when I found out we had been sabotaged. The dial was turned to the "off" position, plain as day. I can't name the culprit definitively, but I have a pretty good guess who it was...
I almost cried as I threw away all that food--for more reasons than I can count. And then, I almost cried again when I realized I wouldn't be getting a new fridge after all. It was the kind of welcome home party I hope we do not repeat anytime soon!