(Pointer Sisters)
Last night while watching TV, I heard a noise from the cabinet across the room. I ignored it. Later another noise, perhaps louder. I ignored it, but it worked on me - a mouse? A rat? What could it be? Too distant from a window where a bird might have flown into the pane.
I investigate.
The built-in refrigerator draws my attention.
I open the door.
Like a war zone, cans of diet coke (non-caffeinated) have exploded... one, two, three. And the debris is frozen solid to the walls. Except for the little pool that somehow escaped into the carpet then dried.
I kneel there, dumbfounded (I didn't think that mini-frig would go that cold though I had turned it to colder the other day.) I also realize I am staring at live grenades with a demonstrated propensity for explosions. And I throw some towels in, reduce the cold setting, and retreat.
Later, perhaps today, I will enjoy the sticky by-then-melt and try to clean it all.
It's always something!
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