A truly rotten day

What a day. I’ve never had so many opportunities to say “I told you so,” even though I held back almost every time. So for all those occasions I could have said it to my parents, here goes: moving up here to live in a flimsy tin can? A bad idea—I told you so. Trying to manage the details of everyday life with only occasional help? A terrible idea, and yes, I told you so.  As for that Amana refrigerator you bought, I really did advise you to get any other brand, but it was the cheapest one so of course you went ahead and made the purchase.

It wasn't quite this bad...

And as I could have predicted, that very refrigerator took center stage in yesterday’s little drama. Barely four years old, it gave out sometime during the past week, but true to form, my parents weren’t quite aware it had expired until Friday evening when my dad noticed that his ice cream was a lukewarm soup. 

I got the call just before 9 a.m. on Saturday, about an hour before I was scheduled to stop by. “Well, we have a major problem,” Jeannie began. And in her predictably tortuous fashion, she described every detail pertaining to the refrigerator’s final illness (“I knew something was wrong because the lettuce was warm”) and ended up saying, “So I guess it doesn’t make much sense to buy groceries since we don’t have a way to refrigerate them.”

Still, there was no other choice for me but to drive there and help them carry out an action plan. Call a repairman? Buy a new refrigerator?  I knew that whatever path we took was bound to be a lot more involved and time-consuming than our normal Saturday. And, with Murphy’s Law in force, I had to be back home for a 2 p.m. appointment.

Arriving at their place, I opened the refrigerator and was hit by an almost palpable stink of rotting cabbage.  When I informed them that nearly everything would have to be tossed, Jeannie protested:  “But the yogurts? They haven’t been opened yet, they should be all right.” No, I said. “What about the eggs—I’ll bet they’re still good.” I pointed out that their “use by" date had passed more than a month ago, to say nothing of the recent conditions. Desperate, she made one more attempt: “And these chicken breasts were in the freezer, so they just thawed and are probably OK.” In answer to that, I opened the package of chicken and reeled back, nearly gagging.

I have no doubt that given their diminished sense of smell (coupled with a profound reluctance to throw out food they’d bought) they would likely have tried to eat at least some of the spoiled things if I hadn’t been there to intervene.

Ultimately, I maneuvered them toward a solution. After a hearty lunch at our local Chili’s, we stopped at Target where I located a mini-refrigerator on sale for only $59. Just big enough for juice, wine and a couple of food items, it should tide them over until they can get a repair person to come out. 

This small crisis will pass—but others are surely on the horizon—and for some future emergencies, even the most skillful repair person will only be able to shake his head and say that nothing can be done.  Just remember: I told you so.