When inflated Dachshunds fly through the windows of our lives
Ever go looking for the perfect image to convey your thoughts only to find three hours had passed and you were now reading an article about overly-inflated Dachshunds? Further, did you stare at the picture for a while before conceding that swollen Dachshunds look like tiny rottweilers?
Yeah, this is the kind of day I'm having.
It was supposed to be simple. Just put giblets and stuff in water. Add carrots and celery. Cook. drum roll! Broth! But I took the turkey out of the fridge and found a little bit of watery blood on the shelf.
No problem. This Clorox wipe will make sort work of it! Just to be certain it didn't travel anywhere, I opened the drawer containing mom's veg...
...what the actual fuck?
The drawer was filled with the liquefied remains of what was once a pear. A motherfucking liquefied pear! And she knew it was in there. "That's just my old pear. It's not that bad."
I'll spare you the details. Suffice to say, I removed her entire drawer (she wiped it with a paper towel and tried to put it back in!) and killed every last microbe with Clorox. I removed the shelf when I saw that mold had grown in the drawer track. I pulled out our bottom bin. And then I wiped and wiped and wiped, and bitched at my mother for the improper storage of food, a bit of Because, Ma, this is why you're constantly complaining about your bowels and stomach! finger wagging.
All the while I'm trying to remind people that we don't want to contaminate the raw turkey on the counter, or the bread we're oven-toasting for dressing tomorrow.
I'm knackered. I can honestly say that I didn't expect this to turn into a two-hour job. It was labor intensive for me, and that's something else I didn't plan for. I would eat my own ass if it meant deadening the pain.
As for that perfect image to convey my exasperation?
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The Trevor the Puffy Sausage Dog made a full recovery.