Refrigerator Masquerader

James - Wheeling, West Virginia
Entered on April 1, 2009

Cheese taints the vegetable drawer: I can no longer see the plump bags of carrots as the enemy’s bags of shredded cheddar and mozzarella invade. The orange juice is helplessly pushed to the back of its plateau by the incoming battle cry of bittersweet Simply Grapefruit juice and 2% milk. Bummer. Ever notice the leftover food that rarely gets eaten? Tupperware plastic stacked in overlap consuming any hopes of the yogurt’s visibility. In determining certain aspects of a person’s personality, it is important to consider their refrigerator. Not freezer. Refrig-er-ator. Kind of like generator but with its refridging properties. This I believe, because refrigerators have the ability to illuminate a family’s tendencies. Food put away carelessly compels me to notice. No bag of lettuce will ever be left open as long as I can help it. To those people that are perfectly content with leaving open a bag of lettuce, maybe the same people find nothing wrong with not wearing a seatbelt. It’s the extra effort that counts, and I know as my life unwinds it is crucial to put myself in situations where the extra effort comes effortless. For example, the left over macaroni’s metamorphosis: whackaroni, the inedible version, when the plastic wrapping is missing covering the bowl. Someone was lazy. The lid to the ice tea my dad made vanished? No, someone didn’t put it back. Someone drank all the milk, knowing my mom needs some for her coffee in the morning. No coffee equals migraines and upset stomach. Just for a few more spoonfuls of honey bunches of oats, satisfying the insatiable pallet. I believe it is important to think of other people. Like when it’s time to go shopping for groceries. The anticipation of new food stirs the growling stomach. We wouldn’t want to be disappointed in the newly purchased food selection, but when the food bought is only pleasing to one person, we are. Not because we can’t eat it, like my dad likes to remind me, “If you’re hungry…you’ll eat a lot of things.” But we are disappointed because eating food that wasn’t bought with someone else in mind is less tasty. Harder to digest. Less fulfilling. So sometimes the actions behind refrigerator organization are unexplainable, but the motives are clear. Clear as the plastic that shapes the inside of the refrigerator. And after analyzing the fridge, a homely commodity, common to most and comforting too, it’s easy to see the way a person handles their food. But what about other people? When no one is looking, no magnification or critical analysis. The refrigerator transcends reality, and depicts compassion that is show for others. This I believe.