|Photo: W. Carter via Wikimedia Commons|
In my family's mind's eye, it's all a haphazard game. As long as the food gets into the fridge, they are satisfied.
Don't get me wrong -- I'm grateful that the food makes it into the refrigerator. I'm less grateful, however, when I end up throwing away once lunch-worthy leftovers because they got shoved to the back behind the applesauce which, by the way, belongs on a different shelf.
If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know that my house is by no means perfect. I am an organizational work-in-progress and my house has multiple hot spots -- places where clutter gathers to have a little party at my expense. I respect other people's right to organize differently than I do, but when my husband's I know I put it somewhere style meets my I need to see it style in the refrigerator, I spend a lot of time muttering under my breath and searching for solutions.
Last week, after I neatly re-stacked the leftovers and replaced the cut fruit on its shelf (the one where it belongs, not the one where it was), I seriously contemplated getting out the label maker and labeling the shelves. There's a good chance, after all, that what's in my mind's eye is different from what's in my family's mind's eye. I see shelves filled with food that can be categorized for easy retrieval. They see a large rectangular space that keeps things cold.
For now, I'm opting to leave well enough alone.
But the next time I throw away perfectly serviceable cold chicken, I just might change my mind.