The other day, I found myself standing in front of the refrigerator muttering about leftovers that had been put with the beverages.
And rearranging things (of course).
The more things change, the more they stay the same?
I still haven't gotten out my label maker. But I am considering sticky notes.
In my mind's eye, there is a map for the inside of the refrigerator. Beverages go in one spot, leftovers in other, meat in a third. That is, to my way of thinking, why refrigerator manufacturers create separate compartments.
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 solutio
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.
Photo: Morguefile |
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.
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