The Icebox Follies

It looked like the old refrigerator had a home. It looked like it.

My godmother waited until yesterday to say that they didn’t want it for their garage after all. Yesterday – as in two days before our new refrigerator comes. Had we known this, it could have been out of here last weekend.

The call came today that they intend to deliver the refrigerator between 8 a.m. and noon tomorrow. I was praying for a morning delivery. WHEW! Plenty of time to get ready for my cousin’s kid’s wedding, including doing something with this fright wig attached to my head.

The mother is now convinced that we’ll just have to have two refrigerators in there. Seriously? In that kitchen that’s only slightly bigger than most peoples’ closets? Uh-huh. Sure.

So it looks as if my mother’s friend who took the stove will be getting it. Turns out she had called the week after taking the stove, apologized for her boyfriend’s behavior and raved about the stove to the mother – especially since her stove was down to three burners and the oven didn’t work. So, the mother felt that in spite of it all, it had gone to a good home.

OK. So I’ll cut her some slack and maybe not just put the fridge in the alley after all. I wish she could come and get it today, but that’s a pipe dream. Instead, she won’t be coming to get it until Monday. (She was going to come tomorrow, but with the new one coming AND us trying to get to a wedding, I don’t see how that would work.)

So I’m not sure HOW we’re going to handle two refrigerators simultaneously, but I guess we’ve managed under worse conditions. Rolling it into the dining room isn’t even an option. Even the simplest of things we do can’t be simple. Ever.

But you can bet this time I’ll be sure to look at that dolly before it even touches the driveway.

And if I don’t like what I see, I’ll be happy to point them to the hose around back. You may get by with that sh*t once, but not twice.