The Humanity in the Fridge

I had waited past the acceptable time to clean out the fridge. Again.

The clear shelves were opaque. There was sticky sludge somewhere, and I didn't want to know what it was.
Our fridge leaks inside, but not to worry, we've found a state-of-the-art way to handle the problem.
We identified where the leak was coming from, wedged and old feta cheese container at the site, and wait for it to fill and freeze, then we dump it in the sink, and repeat.
Sometimes we forget to empty the tub, and water runs down the back of the fridge, collecting under the fruit and veg drawers. It mixes with who knows what and results in a not exactly pristine puddle that makes me gag. But this whole process is much cheaper than buying a new fridge. So here we are.

It's funny you know, I feed our family from this fridge. And every time I open it's doors to pull something out, I never notice the sticky or the smudged or the puddled. Nope, not until I decide to roll up my sleeves and clean the darn thing out. And then, then I am "agog and aghast" that I have allowed my family to live with such...yuckiness. (That's a technical term for varying levels of fridge cleanliness)

I am put face to face with my humanity and come to grips with my imperfections yet again. If I ever get feeling like I am in any way superior to my fellow brothers and sisters on this journey, all I have to do is clean out my fridge. Problem solved. I'm sufficiently leveled. And if that doesn't work, I just pull out the oven to sweep behind it, or move the couch to vacuum under it. Ta-Da! A formula for humility.

Our fridge was borderline empty the other day, as it tends to get when I try to beat the grocery budget that month. It's that time of the month when I look in the fridge for dinner ingredients and find mustard, an egg, left over barley from some soup, and not much else. So I get creative. Then I go shopping the next day, convinced I've stretched my pennies enough to deserve a trip to the store. I come home with more bags than I can carry in 3 trips, stuff our cupboards to capacity, play the adult version of Tetris as I maneuver supplies in the fridge, and step back and stare at our bounty. I stand a little taller as I think of all the yummy, healthy food we can afford, and what delicious dishes I will create with it. "Look at all of this!" I think, my head held high.

I should probably go scrub a toilet or something.